Harry Potter and the War of Manipulation
by shortlysweet
Summary: <html><head></head>Harry's having a regular summer after his fourth year when he finds out there are loopholes to his strict instructions to stay at Privet Drive, and what results is a revealing look at the manipulation happening in order to win the Wizarding War. Manipulative!Dumbledore; rewrite after fourth year. Potential HHr. I don't own any rights to Harry Potter!</html>
1. Chapter 1

Harry was laying on his half-broken bed in the smallest bed at number four Privet Drive on a hot June afternoon. He was tossing a piece of parchment crumpled into a ball in the air, over and over, and thinking about Cedric's death.

It had been unfair that he'd had to go back to Privet Drive, just like every summer before it, to the grumpy and abusive actions of the Dursleys with such a heavy burden. The air was hot, and as the Dursleys had gone out for an early evening meal (with Dudley still dieting, dinner was forced to come early, lest the wrath of the portly boy become too much for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to bear), Harry was locked in his room with no food, no water and no entertainment beyond his parchment.

He began thinking of all his friends, and muttering to himself. "No Sirius to get me out of this, thanks to Peter. No Ron and no chess. No Hermione informing me of something I've never known could exist." He went down the list of every person he knew, thinking of them and what they could possibly do to help him out of this Dursley nightmare. "… No Dobby to—"

But he was interrupted by the small squeaky elf, who appeared at the foot of his bed with a loud pop. "Harry Potter, sir, you called?"

Harry furrowed his brow. "How could you— I wasn't calling, but how could you hear me, Dobby?"

"I help serve the great Harry Potter, even as a free elf! I can hear you always, if you need me," Dobby squeaked cheerfully as he bounced ever so slightly, up and down on the bed.

Harry wondered if this could be a good thing. He might not have to starve anymore, even if he couldn't leave this properly maintained prison on Privet. "Does this mean you can help me during the summer, with food?"

"Does Harry Potter need food? Oh yes!" cried Dobby, preparing to jump off the bed.

Harry spoke quickly. "No, well, not yet. What else can you help me with? I'm forced to stay here, Dobby, and they don't treat me very kindly. Not like a friend. I can pay you, of course."

Dobby shook his head. "No, Harry Potter! You gave Dobby freedom. Dobby will do what Dobby can to repay that. You— you are too kind to Dobby!" With that, the elf began sniffling, crying tears of joy.

"Don't cry, Dobby. You are a great elf, but an even better friend." Dobby burst into a fresh bout of tears as Harry said this, and pulled out a bright pink handkerchief to blow his large nose.

"Th-Thank you, Harry Potter."

"Call me Harry, Dobby." Harry reminded him gently. "And as a friend, I could really use your help. I haven't eaten since some burnt toast at breakfast, and I can't leave this room."

"Say no more, Harry P—Harry. Dobby will be right back!" Dobby squeaked as he disappeared, and arrived a few moments later with a steaming tray, covered fully by a sparkling metal lid. Dobby balanced the tray on one hand and snapped his fingers with the other, and a small table and chair appeared. He put the tray down and uncovered it.

"Your dinner, Harry Pott—Harry," he said as Harry took in the sight of a delicious Hogwarts dinner. Roast with carrots, boiled potatoes, yorkshire pudding, green beans and to the side, a cold glass of iced pumpkin juice and a slice of treacle tart. Harry's eyes grew big and he felt his stomach rumbling — this must be how Ron felt every dinner, he thought to himself, amused.

He looked up at Dobby, who was waiting expectantly. "Thank you, Dobby, this looks wonderful. But you have no chair - won't you have dinner with a friend?"

Dobby looked near tears again, but he snapped his fingers and a smaller chair appeared. He sat down and it magically grew to the height of the table. "Thank you for asking Dobby to join you, sir! Dobby regrets already eating dinner."

"That's okay, Dobby. I'll enjoy your company anyway. And none of this sir business. We are friends," Harry said as he smiled at the small elf. "I am very glad I spoke your name aloud earlier. I thought I would be very lonely until I could meet up with Ron and Hermione again."

"But Harry P—," Dobby began, catching himself, "Why could your friends not come here and see you?"

Harry pushed his carrots around his plate. "I don't think Dumbledore would let them, and besides, Mrs. Weasley would have a fit if Ron left her sight, after what happened with the Tournament…" He trailed off, and Dobby nodded.

"Dobby understands that. But Dobby has an idea; if Ron Wheezy cannot leave, maybe Harry Potter's Miss Grangy can come?"

Harry looked interested, but then muttered "Dumbledore" as he stabbed a piece of roast.

"No, Harry Potter, Dobby will not let you down!" Dobby jumped up and disappeared. Harry continued eating, appreciating the excitement. He imagined the little elf treading up to Dumbledore's office and arguing passionately for Harry to be able to see his friends. Dobby's solution, however, was far more shocking, as in the middle of Harry's daydream, he was interrupted by—

"HARRY?" Hermione, holding Dobby's hand, dropped it at once and ran across the room, throwing her arms around Harry and nearly knocking the food out of him as she squeezed. "Oh, Harry! Dobby showed up after dinner, as I was about to start a book I picked up in Diagon Alley this week, Dueling Dangers, and—"

Harry stopped her when she took a breath, and she finally let go, letting him breathe again. "Hermione, it's good to see you. I thought Dobby was going to argue my case with Dumbledore, not bring you directly here." He looked over at the little elf, who was grinning. "Thank you so much, Dobby. You are truly a great friend."

"Dobby needs no thanks, Harry Potter. But Dobby is needed to clean the castle, so Dobby will be back as soon as you call, to take Miss Grangy home." With that, Dobby popped away.

"I can't believe I'm here, Merlin!" said Hermione, plopping down on Harry's bed. "And I'm glad to see that Dobby is feeding you. I hope you're paying him?"

Harry grinned; he had expected the lecture once he saw her. "I offered, and I will once he returns. Would you like some treacle tart?"

She shook her head, and looked around the little bedroom. "I had plenty of dinner before I came. I must say, I'm surprised at how small this bedroom is." The bed was touching the table, and his chair was touching the desk; it was cramped, and Harry was simply amazed that there was room for a table and the two of them.

"Well, it's an upgrade from the cupboard." He finished his dinner, and went to sit across from her on the bed. "My aunt and uncle locked me in here, and I was just muttering to myself about everyone I'd like to see. When I got to Dobby, as soon as I said his name, he appeared and asked me if I needed help. Pretty amazing, as I was famished." He looked over and grinned. "I know now how Ron must feel all the time."

Hermione snorted. "Ron's behavior is disgusting, especially at mealtimes." She reached down off of the bed and picked up "Curse Control in Crowds: Protecting Yourself in Public" by Elsinor Egleston and began to leaf through it. "You know, I thought I fancied him once, but the Yule Ball really changed that."

Harry wore a puzzled expression as he looked at Hermione. "What changed?" He asked, wondering if he really wanted the answer to the question, as he hated when his friends fought.

She sighed. "Well, really, it's nothing more complicated than that he sees me as the easiest choice. I don't think he really likes me. He's spent far too much time antagonizing me as it is." She propped her feet up on the bed, continuing, "Ron's not a bad choice, but I don't think he's the right guy for me."

At this, Harry felt uncomfortable, and he figured it was because he hated discussing love lives, after what had happened between he and Cho this year. Yet for some unknown reason, he pressed on. "Hermione, how— how does someone know whether a person is right for them, or know if they're in love, or…" he trailed off at the end, not knowing where that question was going, and his cheeks flushed red.

Before he could take it back, Hermione gave a thoughtful look and began to answer. "I guess— well, I think you know the person is right for you when you don't have to try so hard to make things work." It was her turn to blush as she began speaking again, after a pause. "Not that I have experience in these things, but it's merely what I expect out of a relationship. I don't think I agree with that whole idea of chasing boys."

Harry nodded. He had begun to think that he didn't really like Cho the way he thought he did, or even Ginny; he wasn't sure anyone would fit the qualifications Hermione had set forth. Pushing it out of his mind, he saw her glancing up at him every few moments.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"No, unless there's something you want to talk about?" she responded, and it sounded like she had tried hard to force herself to make it sound light.

He sighed. "I don't know. Not really. Yes and no."

"You aren't at fault, it was never because of you." She had a serious look on her face as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I know. It doesn't make it easier, but I do know." He patted her hand, and changed the subject. The two friends spent the rest of the evening laughing and talking with one another until Hermione finally figured she'd better go home. A call to Dobby and some payment ("Dobby accepts payment in socks!") and she disappeared. It was dark and the Dursleys would be home any moment, so he curled up in bed, drifting off happily. Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

The following day, Harry decided to spend as much time out of doors as possible. Aunt Petunia had determined that his lazing about was making even Dudley look active, and she sent him out. He wandered around the playground in Little Whinging and strolled the streets, staying away from Dudley and his pathetic gang.

From behind a bush, he heard a small pop. He stared at the bush, waiting, but nothing happened. A car passed and Mrs. Next Door went inside, and finally Hermione popped up out of the hedge.

"Sorry, Harry. Had to be cautious with your neighbor." She dusted herself off.

"How— where did you come from?" Harry asked, incredulous that Hermione had just emerged from shrubbery.

"Dobby brought me. He answers my call, too, you know. Anyway, I was thinking last night, the best way to spend this summer might be for you to start learning more about defense. She reached into a backpack that Harry hadn't noticed before, and pulled out two large leather-bound volumes of "Enchantments for Enemies," a blanket, and a small paper bag.

"Help me spread this under a tree, please, Harry?" she said as she walked around to a tree in the garden. "This will do. Shady enough." The bag contained snacks and she settled against the tree. Harry lay on his side, arm supporting his head, as he munched on some walnuts.

"You know, Hermione, I appreciate this, but it's not exactly how I planned on spending summer," he said, looking up from the large tome.

She gave him a half smirk. "Me either, actually. I'd planned on spending it doing homework, but that will have to wait a bit. I'm not sure you're prepared in the event that V—erm, that thing, shows up."

They repeated the scenario most afternoons for several weeks, Dobby sometimes bringing them food. Harry was learning new spells and variations on old spells that might prove useful in any upcoming dueling between him and the dark lord. One afternoon, Hermione put down a book ("Working With Wands," by Fergey Fletcher) and peered at Harry.

"When we talked about the cage", she said, using their term for what had happened with priori incantatem, "you said you weren't at all sure that V—he— knew what was happening. Do you think that Ollivander might be questioned by him?" She had a look of fear on her face, and Harry felt his stomach drop.

"I—I don't know. Maybe we could… maybe Dobby could warn him?" Harry weakly replied, hoping nothing had happened to the old wand maker already. "I doubt Dumbledore has said anything."

Dobby, having heard his name, appeared in the leafy boxwood hedge next to Harry and Hermione's study spot. "Dobby heard Harry Potter calling. What can Dobby do to help?" The elf spoke in a quiet voice, that sounded a bit strangled from his usual squeaky cheerfulness.

"Dobby, this is very important. Do you think you could visit Ollivanders and give him the message that Harry Potter says Voldemort may be looking for him, and mention brother cores of a wand." Harry whispered, his eyes darting around to make sure no one saw him talking to the shrubs. "I think he'll understand."

Hermione nodded, and reopened her book, though it was clear her mind wasn't on it. Dobby disappeared after nodding to Harry. Harry decided to lay back and stare up through the branches of the tree, feeling nervous.

Hermione broke the awkward silence after a few minutes. "Even if something's happened, it is not your fault, Harry."

"I could have sent an owl."

"Yes, but so could Dumbledore." She set the book aside and crawled over to his spot, speaking softly. "If Dumbledore didn't say anything despite having the knowledge, then maybe there's nothing to worry about."

"Maybe, maybe not," Harry responded.

"I'm serious, Harry! Professor Dumbledore should be the one to warn him, anyway. He almost forbids you to contact the outside world." Hermione looked angry. "I will NOT let you take responsibility for any more deaths at the hands of other people."

After what seemed like an eternity, Dobby returned. "Sorry Harry Potter, but Dobby had to wait for everyone to leave. Dobby thinks that the wand master will be leaving shortly for a safer place."

"Did he know about the threat before, Dobby?" Hermione asked.

"Dobby doesn't think so, Miss. The wand master seemed surprised to hear Dobby's message straight from the great Harry Potter!" He smiled with a toothy grin from his hiding place in the bushes.

Hermione got up and dusted off her shorts, and began repacking her bag. In a low voice, she said, "Dobby, can you take me to Harry's room?" She glanced at Harry and nodded towards the back door. Harry took the hint and went inside. A few moments later, the other two arrived.

"We have to be quiet. Aunt Petunia didn't notice me coming inside," he said, gesturing for Hermione to sit on the bed. She didn't pay him any notice, though, as she dug through his desk drawers, coming up with a pen and a small notepad.

"Harry, it's bad that no one told Ollivander," Hermione said as she finally perched near the top of the bed, nibbling on the end of the pen in thought. "We really need to think about if anyone else could be in danger that doesn't even know it. Fudge won't even believe Voldemort is back."

Harry thought for a moment, then looked up at Hermione. "Why do you think he didn't warn Ollivander, anyway?" he asked.

"I-I don't know," she said, looking down at the paper, biting her lip in thought. "He knew that Voldemort was clueless? Did you tell him that Voldemort was just as puzzled?"

"I'm fairly sure I did, when I described it." He scratched his head, trying to remember any details, as Hermione jotted something down.

"We don't know for sure who in the Ministry is choosing to follow Fudge's lead, but we do know who would be targets, right?" she asked as she wrote.

"Well, wouldn't everyone?" Harry asked, then winced as he knew that was a stupid response.

"Obviously. But I'm talking people who are in power and accept muggleborns. I don't think Fudge is one of those kinds of people," Hermione responded. "I'm actually thinking department heads. Department of Magical Law Enforcement, for example. I don't know the names of many of the heads, though, so we'll have to get help."

"We could ask Mr. Weasley," Harry suggested.

"I'll have to think of some way to get the names from him. The only other person we know that could help is Percy, and he won't be much help at all." Hermione tapped her pen against the paper. She noticed the sun streaming in the window and realized it was getting later in the afternoon.

"We'll have to finish tomorrow, Harry, it's getting late. But keep thinking about it, please," Hermione asked as she returned the pen to the drawer and tucked the notepad into her backpack so Dobby could take her home.

After Dobby had returned with a delicious feast of bangers and mash, peas and a heaping portion of cherry crumble, Harry lay down, full to bursting, on his bed to think. He could understand why Dumbledore might not want to interfere with the Ministry as Fudge clearly didn't want to think of possibility of Voldemort's return, but he couldn't understand why he wasn't warning people at risk; same as how no one had been warned about Karkaroff being a Death Eater, for that matter.

He wondered what Sirius would think about Dumbledore holding back, especially when Dumbledore would have the Pensieve to replay the conversation between him and Harry for—

"Wait," he thought out loud. "No."

He pulled out a pair of pink lace girls socks that Hermione had left as a method of payment for Dobby, and called the little house elf. "Dobby? Could you take me to Hermione's house? We have to talk immediately."


	3. Chapter 3

Kenneth Granger peered out the window of the door, wondering who the shabby looking boy waiting in front of his house could be. He couldn't keep him waiting all night, so he figured he might as well tell this boy he was not interested in what he was selling.

He opened the door, and Harry jumped. "Mr. Granger? Sir? I know you might not remember me after not having seen me in a while, but I need to speak to Hermione, urgently."

"Er—" started Mr. Granger, but before he could answer, a curly haired girl brushed past him.

"Harry! What are you doing here? Come in before anyone knows you're here," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. "Are you all right?"

"I'm—well, I'm something, Hermione. I thought of something that makes me incredibly nervous. We should talk about it." He shot a glance to her parents who were also standing in the foyer, and continued, "I really hope I didn't interrupt important family time." He looked down at his feet, slightly ashamed; he never really knew what families did in the evening.

Hermione's mother, Jean, spoke up. "Nothing too important. Why don't you children sit in the dining room to discuss…" she trailed off, but gestured towards the back of the house, all the same.

The teens turned and Hermione led the way to the dining room, as Mr. Granger gave Mrs. Granger a look.

"What?" she asked, glaring back.

"I don't know how I feel about a boy coming to the house, Jean," Mr. Granger responded grumpily.

"That same boy lives in the same 'house' as Hermione at school, you might consider." She smirked slightly. "He also seems to be making her happy, and they're not dating."

"I should hope not!" Mr. Granger responded, indignant at the idea. "She's too young."

"She's almost sixteen, Kenneth. You can't keep her under lock and key forever. And she's smart, she knows what she wants." Mrs. Granger spoke kindly, steering him back towards the library. "And I think it's time for you to get yourself into a book and out of worry. Come along, dear."

Harry and Hermione, on the other hand, were sitting around the long dining table in the rather large dining room. Hermione had thought to grab paper and pen while on the way in, while Harry was enamored with how normal her house seemed, while being much nicer than Privet Drive.

"Harry? So what is the issue?" Hermione spoke gently to break him out of his reverie.

He blinked, coming back to the moment. "Sorry. Hermione, I was thinking about Dumbledore and why he never told any of us that Karkaroff was a Death Eater, even though he was reformed. And then, I thought about Sirius, and what Sirius would think, and I realized that with the Pensieve, Dumbledore could have had Sirius cleared with the Ministry just through Sirius' memories and our own. He could be free. But why wouldn't he help?"

Hermione's eyes grew bigger as Harry finished his thoughts, and she started scribbling down notes as fast as she could. "Blast that we can't have quick quotes quills," she thought. Out loud, she mused, "I wonder what else he could change. We should think about everything he might have known before; like Crouch Jr. pretending at being Moody." She scribbled down more. "It's possible there's an explanation, you know."

Harry looked angrier the more he thought about it. "I'm not so sure. What is the benefit of Sirius potentially dying by being caught? Sirius is the only one that can tell the truth about my parents' death."

"Hmm. That's true. I can't think of another reason for that," Hermione mused. "I wonder… maybe Dumbledore doesn't trust Sirius?"

"Then he's making a mistake, Hermione." Harry curled his hands into fists. "I don't understand why I'm left in the dark. Why he leaves me with abusers, why he doesn't let anyone visit me, why he never even checked up on me for years and years!" Harry stood up suddenly, his chair falling behind him. "I've been in more danger from Voldemort at Hogwarts than anywhere else! How is he even responsible for my well being? Sirius should be!"

Hermione made more notes as he was talking, but looked up sharply at Harry's last statement. "You're right, Harry. How is he responsible for you? He wouldn't let you go to Hogsmeade in third year because of your slip not being signed, yet he won't let you report your abusive family, the family he— wait, Harry." She stood up, pacing the floor. "Dumbledore left you with your Aunt and Uncle, as a baby."

"Yes," Harry responded, waiting to see her point.

"So — how is it that Dumbledore is in charge of you? He is the Headmaster of a school you didn't attend and the head of a secret group that your parents died helping. He doesn't place orphans as part of that job description, no matter how special. Doesn't it seem strange to you that it wasn't someone from the Ministry or St. Mungo's?" She stopped pacing to look at him.

He felt a feeling of terror settle into the bottom of his stomach. "Do you — Do you think that he's using me in some way?" Harry hadn't even wanted to ask.

"I'll admit, I don't know." Hermione stopped. "I'm going to go get some water—"

Just then, an owl flew into the kitchen. She hastily pulled the letter from its leg, wondering who it could be from; it was a beautiful barn owl, white with brown feathers on its wings.

"A ministry owl," she said as Harry gave it an owl treat from his pocket. She was already reading the letter. "It's from a Kingsley Shacklebolt. He said that Dumbledore is assembling the Order — whatever that is — to find you, and I'm to report whether or not you're here."

"How does he know I'm gone? And why is that his responsibility, yet again?" Harry grew frustrated as Mrs. Granger walked in.

"How's it coming, children?" she asked, having overheard Harry grumbling.

Hermione threw the letter down. "Not well, I'm afraid. I have to make a choice, and fast. We think Dumbledore is overstepping his bounds possibly in an attempt to control Harry and maybe others. We know he is leaving an innocent man on the run for his crimes while locking Harry up with his abusive family, yet playing Harry's guardian, too. And I don't know how to reply to the letter that Dumbledore's friend sent, looking for Harry." Hermione leaned against the counter. "Oh, Mum. What do I do?"

Mrs. Granger knew then that the next few days were going to be quite rough on all of them, and she had better give this pair of fifteen year olds some decent advice.

"I think for now, you respond to the letter that Harry is not here. Harry, I think you shall come with me to the grocery store, because otherwise, that letter would be lying. Hermione, you can come too, if you like." Mrs. Granger retrieved her purse and car keys, and waited for Hermione to scribble that he was "not currently at her house, and to please keep her informed" as she sent the owl on his way.

Harry called Dobby, and asked for him to bring some clothes but to make it look like he hadn't really left, if possible, and Mr. Granger decided to join them for the evening jaunt to the store. None of them could possibly know how much was about to change.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry to end on a cliffy before! I know it's annoying but this is slightly different from what I've written before so I'm trying new techniques.

After a quick stop for ice cream and filling in her father on the latest happenings, the four of them had a plan; Harry would stay with the Grangers for a day before both he and Hermione would go up to her grandmother's. Harry would write a letter to the Dursleys telling them he was safe and that he wouldn't be coming back soon; if they didn't go looking for him, then certainly Dumbledore had no responsibility in the matter.

The Grangers were talking to one another when Mr. Granger drove right past the driveway. Hermione considered this a small miracle, for when she looked up at the house, she saw shadows moving from inside.

"Mom, Dad, keep driving. There's someone in our house!" she half-screamed as she shoved Harry's head down into the back seat. "I— there's a chance it's Death Eaters, but probably Dumbledore."

Mr. Granger's knuckles went white as he tensely held the steering wheel.

Mrs. Granger looked pale and turned to the back of the car. "I suppose we'll be making that trip to your Gran's house now, Hermione," she said as she pursed her lips. Mr. Granger left the neighborhood and the four of them sat in silence as Harry sat up.

After a while, Harry spoke up. "I- I'm sorry to get you all involved." He put his head in his hands, sighing. "I think it would be easiest for everyone if I just get Dobby to take me back to the Dursleys."

"I'm sure it would be easiest, Harry, but I'm not so sure that it would keep you safe," Hermione replied. "You don't deserve to feel like a pawn in your life any more than I do."

"Dear, we will get this settled, and we are going to find out why anyone is just allowed to waltz into our house while we are out." Mrs. Granger spoke lightly and stared ahead. "Not too much longer now until we get to Hermione's Gran's house."

Hermione saw the still unsure look on Harry's face. "Harry, please. Let someone help you. We want to." She glanced up and saw her father's reflection in the rear view mirror; his brow was furrowed, but he said nothing. "I want to, at least, and I think my parents want to ensure that I'm safe, just as much as you."

Harry nodded, and slumped against the side of the car. He was worried. Dumbledore was a powerful wizard; he didn't want to take any chances of getting in trouble. "Mrs. Granger? Mr. Granger?" he asked after a moment. "Do you happen to have a mobile?"

Mrs. Granger opened her purse and passed back a large mobile phone. "Calling your relatives, then? That sounds like a good idea."

"I think so, at least, I hope so," Harry replied. He dialed the Dursleys' phone number, and Aunt Petunia answered.

"Aunt Petunia? It's Harry."

"Where are you, boy? Your weird freak friends came looking for you. We know you're not here."

"No, Aunt Petunia, I'm not. I didn't want to inconvenience you anymore. Would it be all right if I stayed with a friend for the rest of the summer, to get out of your way?" Harry thought for a moment, and then added, "I'm sure my godfather, the infamous murderer on the run, would like for that to happen."

He heard Aunt Petunia sniff, "Very well, then. Get yourself back to your freak school and don't expect to come back here, you ungrateful brat. Dudley would like that second bedroom back anyway."

Harry rolled his eyes, and replied, "He can have it. Good bye." He ended the call and passed the large phone to the front of the car.

"So, you have permission from your guardians, then?" Mr. Granger spoke up, his voice sounding less strained than when he first saw Harry.

"Yes, sir. Dudley wanted his second bedroom back," Harry responded, and then laughed.

"Harry! This is great, now Dumbledore can say nothing about you leaving. He isn't allowed to require you to stay somewhere!" Hermione threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as best she could, with the seat belt still on.

"And we're here, now. Perfect timing," Mrs. Granger called back to the kids as they turned down a gravel driveway. They appeared to be outside of a town, on what looked like a great bit of pasture. The house looked old, with a stone fireplace and ivy growing up the side. There were pots full of plants everywhere, and as Harry climbed out the car, he even heard a few chickens.

Hermione walked around the car to start to explain the place to Harry, talking rapidly as she explained Gran's love of gardening and the chickens in the back. Meanwhile, the group made their way up the stone path to the front door. The house was mostly dark, with some lamps lit in the front room, and Harry hoped they weren't bothering the older woman too much as Mr. Granger knocked on the door.

There was a creaking noise as the door opened, and a small woman with unruly gray curls opened the door, dressed in a nightgown and a robe with fluffy blue slippers. "Kenneth? Jean?" the woman said, squinting slightly in the darkness. "Is everything okay?"

"Well, we're okay. We brought a friend of Hermione's and were hoping you could help us hide for a night or two, Ann?" Mrs. Granger spoke up.

"Of course, of course," the older woman said, gesturing them inside as she backed away from the door. "A surprise, but a pleasant one."

"Thank you, Mom," Mr. Granger said as he entered the house, and he stopped to give his mother a hug.

"Oh yes, Gran, thank you so much," Hermione said as she, too, stopped to give a big hug to the family matriarch.

Harry wasn't sure what to do, so he stuck out his hand. "I'm Harry Potter, I'm very thankful—" but he was interrupted as she grabbed his hand and gave a hearty shake. Apparently, squeezing was a key part of greeting amongst members of this family, Harry thought.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. You're a cute one, I'll have to keep you two separate," she said as she winked at Hermione. Hermione blushed bright red and buried her face in her hands.

"Gran, no, Harry's not— it's not like that," she said helplessly.

"Of course, dear, of course. Harry, you can call me Ann. Mrs. Granger might get confusing in this house." Ann shuffled her way through the parlor to the kitchen and told everyone else to sit down on the couches. It felt homey and comforting, though Harry was sure it hadn't been rearranged in twenty years. In a small way, it reminded him of the Burrow, but different; warm and happy.

The Burrow - Ron, he thought. Oh no. He'd have to speak with Hermione about Ron once she was done visiting with her Gran.

Ann came back with a tray of biscuits and some cups, though no tea. "I put the kettle on, but it will take a bit. That stove just isn't what it used to be." Harry thought the charm of the house more than made up for the stove, but he didn't reply.

A few moments later, Mrs. Granger got out of her seat and dashed out of the living room, remembering the now-melted ice cream she needed to throw away. Once she was back and the tea was made, Ann sat down.

"So who would like to explain first?" she asked, looking at the four of them. As Harry had hoped, Hermione began.

"Well, Gran, you know about the magic?" She started there, and explained the concerns that had come up about the Headmaster trying to control Harry without having any legal guardianship over him; about his abusive family and the story of his parents. Harry mostly stared down at his hands while Hermione talked; it was almost embarrassing to tell his story to a woman who was barely more than a stranger, but he trusted Hermione and her family.

When she had finished, Ann looked over at Harry, and then stood. "We had better get some clean sheets and get you kids settled." She led them up some narrow wood stairs and stopped, reaching into a closet. She handed Harry a stack of sheets and Hermione a stack of towels, and walked through the upstairs, pointing out rooms to use. There were six bedrooms in the large house, Harry learned, though some didn't have beds. One appeared to be a small library.

"Thank you so much, Gran," Hermione said as they reached Harry's room. "I appreciate this more than I could explain."

"I couldn't very well let my only granddaughter and her friend be in danger, could I?" Ann put an arm around Hermione. "It's always happier with you here, anyway, dear. And both of you will be put to work around the house, scrubbing and dusting, tomorrow."

Harry smiled and thanked her as well, and she shuffled down the hall and down the stairs to talk to the Grangers. Hermione set the stack of towels down and pulled back the covers to add sheets. "I wish we could do magic here. It would sure make it less dusty."

"Oh!" Harry remembered Dobby suddenly. "Let's call Dobby. I don't mean to clean, but maybe he can get you some clothes, if everyone is gone." Hermione agreed, and the two called Dobby.

"Dobby will do anything you need, Harry Potter!" the elf agreed, after hearing about people in the house.

"But Dobby, if they are still there, make sure you are not caught." Harry turned to Hermione and then asked, "What about the paper on the table? Oh, no, what if they found it, Hermione?"

Hermione grinned and pulled the now folded paper out of her pocket. "I thought we might get more ideas on the way to the store. Glad I did it, now."

"You're truly brilliant, Hermione." He turned back to Dobby. "Just some clothes and toiletries, please, Dobby? I'm sure the Grangers will appreciate it."

Hermione also turned towards the elf after putting on new pillowcases. "And in my top drawer, there are a pair of rainbow socks. Please take those and any other socks you might want from that drawer. You've helped us so much, Dobby."

"Dobby does not do enough for the friend that freed him, Miss Grangy! But Dobby will take the socks, because Dobby does not have beautiful rainbow socks yet." Dobby gave them a firm nod and disappeared.

Later, after he'd retrieved the clothes and everything was sorted, Harry settled into bed with the strangest sense of security; he'd never felt this happy at Privet Drive, and Hogwarts was always full of one happening after another. He and Hermione had a lot to think about and do tomorrow, but for now, he was happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Still don't own anything! None of Harry's world belongs to me, well... I might own Gran Ann.

Sorry this one is so long. There was no good place to stop it!

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><p>The next morning, Hermione knocked on Harry's door early. It was far too early for his liking considering the nightmares he still had about Cedric, but he knew he had to get a lot settled today, and so he grudgingly went downstairs for breakfast.<p>

Ann was already up, flitting around the kitchen with practiced ease as she rummaged around in cupboards and on shelves for pots and pans. "A good old fashioned breakfast will get you two started on the right foot," she said over the sound of bubbling and sizzling happening on the stove.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger came downstairs then, fully dressed. "We have to leave now to get to work on time. Be good for your Gran, Hermione, and you too, Harry." She leaned down to give Hermione a hug and patted Harry on the back. "I hope I can rely on the two of you to not get into trouble."

"We won't, Mum." Hermione was pulling plates down out of a cabinet and setting them out as her parents left, bidding Ann goodbye.

Harry found the utensils and put those out, too, and the three of them sat down to a quiet breakfast.

"So, Harry, tell me about your hobbies. You must know how much Hermione likes to read, what do you like to do?" Ann asked, adding beans on top of her toast.

"Well, I—" he glanced up at Hermione, hoping it was okay to say, "I mostly like flying on my broom."

"Ah, yes, Hermione has told me before about your game," Ann nodded. Harry was relieved that he didn't have to explain flying to a Muggle. "You two have another friend, yes?"

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione groaned as she shoved her plate aside, pulling out the folded paper and jotting down more notes. "We haven't even thought about Ron. His parents are completely loyal to Dumbledore, we might have some trouble."

Ann stood up. "I have to tend to the chickens and will be working on some gardening. Maybe after lunch we will get you two sorted on the cleaning, yes?" Hermione just nodded.

"Thank you for breakfast, Mrs— Ann. I'll do the dishes. Let me know if I can do anything else." Harry stood up and collected his and Ann's empty plates, and began to work on the dishes as Hermione mumbled and scribbled some more. She was right about Ron's family; he thought of how he'd first met them and—

That meeting. Molly Weasley had asked which platform and that's how he first saw her, and the rest of the Weasley clan. He kindly asked how to get on the platform. Wait a moment. She had asked which platform?

Harry wasn't quite sure why that would ever happen. Molly would have gone to King's Cross so many times, there was no way to forget. Unless the platform had changed that year — but then, it couldn't, could it? Just the one, with the tracks going straight to Hogwarts.

He finished the dishes, and sat back down at the table. "Hermione, when I first met the Weasleys, Molly had asked her family which platform they were supposed to use at King's Cross. It's how I knew that they could help me onto the platform, and it's also why I'm confused."

Hermione looked up, biting her lip. "That's peculiar."

"Well, what's more peculiar is — how did you know how to get on the platform? How did every other muggleborn or muggle raised child know how to get onto the platform? No one was there directing." Harry waited.

"No one was there? Well, Dumbledore was there for me, at the front of the building…" She trailed off, thinking. "So he didn't show up for you. He just happened to not be there when Harry Potter needed to know how to get on, and Molly Weasley just happened to ask the platform number loud enough for you to hear?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "See, this is exactly the kind of thing that brought me here. Why? Why would he do something like that?"

Hermione grimaced. "I don't know. Maybe he thought the Weasleys would be good to know."

"I'm not saying they're not, but he never really gave me a good chance otherwise, right? Molly was rather pushy in them watching over me, not that I don't appreciate their friendship," he added hastily at the end.

"I'm not sure, Harry," she said. "Maybe we need to talk to Sirius somehow."

"That reminds me, I need to ask Dobby to get the rest of my things." Dobby appeared, having heard his name, wearing rainbow socks and a chocolate brown and orange doll apron with a flowered hat.

"Harry Potter need not ask! Dobby has already done it this morning. And Dobby thanks Miss Grangy for the perfect socks," he said, showing a big toothy grin to Hermione. Hermione smiled back.

"As long as you're getting paid, Dobby. You deserve it," she said to the bouncy little elf.

Harry looked lost in his thoughts for a moment, then shook his head. "Dobby, I've just had an idea. Do you think you could bring Sirius Black here?"

Dobby thought for a moment. "Dobby isn't sure, Harry, because Dobby can't see where he is. He might be in a place with the Secrets charm," he replied.

"Harry, I think he means the Fidelius charm," Hermione spoke after a moment of thought. Harry nodded.

"I'll write to him then, and ask him to meet me somewhere where Dumbledore does not follow. Then Dobby can meet him and pop him over, right, Dobby?" Harry addressed the small elf.

"Yes sir, Harry! It can be done then," he nodded, bouncing his large head up and down. "Dobby will wait, then, and return to the castle so no one suspects him. Dobby must not tell your secrets."

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry replied as Dobby disappeared with an audible pop in the air.

"I get the feeling Sirius may be with Dumbledore," Hermione thought. "Who else could find somewhere with a Fidelius charm to hide him?"

"I wonder if he is what Dumbledore's hiding, or if it's something — or someone — else," Harry replied evenly. He borrowed a piece of paper from Hermione and sent Hedwig off to Sirius, wherever he may be, and hoped for the best.

_VVVVVVVV_

Later that afternoon, he received a reply from Sirius. They would meet that evening, and no one else would know or follow, Sirius stated (but did not promise). Harry didn't believe this, but it didn't matter to him since he was not going to be there.

He and Hermione had scrubbed bathrooms, mopped hallways, vacuumed bedrooms and washed linens. He was sweaty and tired, but it felt good to do an honest day's work in exchange for a place to sleep; he did not feel like he owed a great debt to Ann. Hermione was currently sneezing up a storm and looking for allergy medication from her grandmother; the damp dust in the house was oppressive once one began to move it around. Ann was downstairs making what seemed to Harry to be the most amazing smelling dinner he'd had since a Hogwarts Feast. She wouldn't tell them what she was cooking, but he suspected it was a delicious stew.

The three of them ate dinner and then Ann sent them off to unpack their things and settle in. Dobby had brought Hermione's trunk and some books earlier in the day, along with Harry's trunk, Hedwig's cage and his Firebolt. Harry was putting away some leftover parchment rolls when Sirius and Dobby arrived, standing on his bed.

"Merlin's beard, don't scare me like that, Harry!" Sirius yelped.

He heard Ann coming up the stairs. "Harry, is something the matter? I thought I heard yelling," she said as she arrived at his door. "Mercy! Who are you?" she asked the currently taller (due to the bed) — and now freshly shaven and cleaned — Sirius Black.

Sirius hopped off the bed. "My apologies. I am Harry's godfather, and I was— magically sent here." He seemed to remember just in time that Ann was a muggle and explaining apparition was not high on the list of things he wanted to do that evening.

"Oh, I see. Well, feel free to use the Library to talk, if need be, and Harry, perhaps keep the yelling to a minimum," she said as she shuffled off back down the stairs.

"Yes, Ann, sorry," Harry replied. He heard Hermione talking with Ann at the bottom of the stairs as he led Sirius to the library and sat down in some old velvet wingback chairs.

"You're looking well, Harry!" Sirius noted that he didn't seem to be half starved, as he expected. "But whose house elf was that?"

"That's Dobby. He's my friend, but not my elf. He is free," Harry explained as Hermione joined them, sniffling. "We're staying with Ann, Hermione's gran, as you can see."

"Well, it's not those abusive jerks," Sirius replied, "but Dumbledore is worried."

"That's sort of why we've called you here, Sirius. We needed to talk. Dobby can return you to wherever you came before after we're done, and you can figure out what you want to do, if you like," Harry said. "But I will be staying here for now."

"Well, talk, Harry. You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Sirius, don't you find it strange that you and others have memories that could set you free, Dumbledore has a pensieve, and yet no one has gone to the Ministry to sort it and get you your freedom?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure the Ministry cares," Sirius responded.

"The Ministry might not, but Dumbledore should. He knows you weren't responsible for deaths and yet he continues to push an agenda that not only agitates Fudge greatly, but almost assures that no one will listen to anyone connected to Dumbledore. He's controlling all of us by speaking for us and associating with us," Harry said, his anger growing. "And that's not all. How did Dumbledore get the power to place me with the Dursleys? How did he not protest you not getting a trial despite being on the Wizengamot, even if you had been guilty? Dumbledore shows us an image of him wanting to be completely, absolutely fair and do the right thing, but how do we know he's even doing it if he makes all the choices?"

Hermione spoke up again, "And we think he's still doing it with Harry. The Dursleys, as awful as they are, are Harry's only guardians. They approve of Harry staying with a friend. Yet Dumbledore is searching everywhere for him, and we even think he might have broken into my parents' house last night looking for Harry, even after I'd sent an owl saying I hadn't seen him. He certainly doesn't trust me."

"I'm—I, wow. I don't know, kids." Sirius tilted his head toward the ceiling. "To be honest, I've had my doubts about him, too."

Harry took this as his next cue. "What do you know about the Weasleys and Dumbledore?"

Sirius looked up. "They are —" his tongue seemed to tie, and he hit his forehead with his hand. "Right, I can't tell you where they are, but they are with Dumbledore and his group."

"His group?" Hermione continued, "would this have someone named Kingsley Shacklebolt in it?"

"Yes. The group is called the Order of the Phoenix." Sirius swallowed hard, and continued. "Your parents were in it during the first wizarding war."

"And the Weasleys are a part of it?" Harry asked, knowing the answer would be yes.

"Yes, maybe more than just a part of it. I'm pretty sure the Weasleys are the more important members right now, and Molly Weasley has set her sights on keeping you safe," Sirius replied. "They're all going spare not knowing where you are."

"But why is it their problem?" asked Hermione. "I can understand being friends and worrying for Harry - Merlin knows I worry about him, too. But I can't understand why they are living with you at this, er, undisclosed location."

Sirius laughed. "I wouldn't say no to some Molly Weasley cooking after so many months on the run, you know. I think I can tell you that they're staying at my house, and sure, they're concerned as friends. But I understand what you're getting at: why is Dumbledore following Harry and then communicating these worries to the Weasleys? And I also wonder why he's not in communication with the Dursleys, if he's so concerned." Sirius looked sharply at Harry. "They do know you left?"

"Well— they didn't at first, but I called and told them I was safe and wouldn't be back for the rest of summer hols, if that's what you mean."

Sirius looked puzzled for a moment. "When did you ring them?"

"Last night, on the way here. Around, say, 9:30 or so. I used Mrs. Granger's mobile," replied Harry. Hermione was still looking at the notes she'd written and making other remarks. She appeared to be on page three or four, and Harry was wondering how deep this deception went.

"Interesting. He went to the Dursleys again near midnight." Sirius said. "He should have known then that you were given permission."

"If they told him, you mean," Hermione added.

"No, they cooperated, I wasn't there but Remus was and he snuck into Harry's room to look around while Dumbledore spoke with them. Then he said Dumbledore and he met up in the front hall and apparated from there," Sirius replied. "Remus has no reason to lie about it, I know he's just as concerned as you."

"So let me get this straight. Dumbledore possibly lied to people to bring me to the Dursleys because he shouldn't have been the one to bring me. He misled me in King's Cross, forcing me to meet the Weasleys, where Molly told her boys to look after me and just about made my friends for me. He let the cup be tampered with despite knowing the dangers of the competition and someone ended up killed. He didn't go to the Ministry with the knowledge that you were able to be free, and he didn't tell the castle that there was a former Death Eater there as head of another school last year. He hired Voldemort to teach on the back of Professor Quirrell's head. He is watching me despite having no legal reason to do so, he possibly broke into Hermione's house, and now I am on the run because I wanted to visit a friend." Harry had stood up during this speech. "How am I supposed to trust him?"

Hermione muttered "I wouldn't," as she scratched down more notes.

"I don't know that I can convince you that you should, Harry," Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder, then sat back down. "What's this about Voldemort teaching?"

"Our first year. Voldemort was on the back of a Professor's head, and he didn't find out until Harry was almost dead from fighting him," Hermione remarked over the top of her notebook.

Sirius stood up so quickly, the chair fell down behind him, knocking down a table. His voice boomed. "You were put in harm's way as an 11 year old child with Voldemort after you? What was he thinking?"

"But Dumbledore—" Sirius stopped. "I think we need Remus."

Sirius left to fetch Remus and to bring back a large tray of sandwiches and juice while Harry and Hermione cleaned up the mess and apologized to Ann. They could tell this was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the nice reviews so far! Hope you enjoy! As always, I don't own anything.

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><p>Remus and Sirius showed up right around dusk, on the front porch this time. Ann let them in and seemed to be a bit flirtatious as she introduced herself to Remus. Hermione shuddered.<p>

"I don't think we were followed. We apparated to a few other places before we came here. You never know what tricks people have," Sirius said as he brushed dust off his robes and walked up the stairs.

"Harry, dear boy, it's good to see you again. You've given us all a scare, though," Remus said as he took off his jacket. "Dumbledore is worried about you."

"Yes, and I'm worried about him, too, Professor Lupin. Maybe we should go sit down and talk." Harry led Remus upstairs, to the library. Hermione had found a few other chairs and brought them in, and was showing her notes to Sirius.

"So, Moony, I have to ask - do you think Dumbledore can read minds?" Sirius began, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

Remus raised one eyebrow. "Well, yes. We've talked about legilimancy before." He turned towards Harry and Hermione. "Legilimancy is where one can see into the mind of another person; it takes a skilled, powerful wizard to be able to do so. It takes an even more skilled one to be able to block a legilimancy attack; those people are called occlumens."

Sirius looked impatient. "So then, how would he not have known he was hiring a Voldemort supporter who had Voldemort attached to the back of his head?" Sirius had an even more smug smirk on his face.

"I—what?" Remus was clearly caught off guard.

"He hired a professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts our first year who was acting as a vessel for Voldemort, Professor Lupin," Hermione responded.

"How—why—what? That doesn't make sense!" exclaimed Remus, looking puzzled. "If he didn't know, Snape might have known Lord Voldemort's closest supporters — which I would think would include a person willing to become a vessel for an evil, evil wizard!"

"You know, I'm pretty sure he never told the ministry," Harry interjected. "So they have no idea that not only is Voldemort back, he was also in the castle the entire first year of our schooling, I'm sure. It would sound crazy to them if they think he's still in Albania, and Dumbledore, before tonight, has never given them a reason to suspect that Voldemort may be walking around. As incompetent as Fudge is, I feel like if more sightings had just been reported, he might have been more willing to listen at the end of the Tournament. Maybe it would have helped if Dumbledore had shared what he knew before."

There was a brief pause, and then Sirius looked over at Remus. "It's interesting that Dumbledore didn't stand up for you, either, to the school governors."

"That's not entirely fair, Padfoot, I quit before I could be sacked," Remus replied, still looking rather pensive.

"Maybe not, but you were better than his replacement — whom he should have known wasn't Alastor Moody if he really was capable of legilimancy, correct? Why didn't he question more people when the Cup had four names? It might have been a long time since I was once an Auror, but I'm not so trusting of the world." Sirius had a determined look to his face.

"I did wonder that myself. It doesn't seem like Dumbledore to just have allowed a fourth participant, especially one so young. Why didn't he protect the cup, we'll never know." Remus admitted, as he turned to Harry. "I know you, Harry, and I hope you don't blame yourself for the death of your friend Cedric. If Dumbledore could have stopped this and protected you in any way, the blood is on his hands. James and Lily would not have wanted you to feel responsible when you did everything you could."

There was a pause while the group munched on some sandwiches. They were each thinking about the myriad of lies and deceit that it seemed Dumbledore had created. Finally, Remus vanished the tray and Hermione straightened up her pages of notes.

"So what do the two of you think? It's all well and good to say what should have happened but we have a bigger problem here: We have no idea how to proceed with Harry. Professor Lupin, you don't even know the half of what Dumbledore has possibly done - why was he the one to take Harry to the Dursleys? It seems suspect. Why is he worried now, when Harry's legal guardians are okay with Harry being with me? Why did he know that Harry had left the Dursleys, and how did he find out in such a short amount of time? Are people spying on Harry? What isn't he telling us?" Hermione put down her pen. "We have no answers, just more questions, every time we talk it seems."

"It's true," Harry piped up. "I don't think he's infallible. I hope you don't either, Moony."

Sirius tapped his foot with a pensive look on his face; Remus stared at a small painting of flowers on the wall. Finally, Remus spoke. "Perhaps the best thing to do is to ask him and see where it goes."

"But if he does occlumency—" Sirius began speaking, only for Remus to hold up his hand.

"I know. It's a risk. But we have to give him a chance to answer. Harry, you should stay here, if it's safe. I'm going to put up some basic security wards just in case." Remus walked downstairs.

"Sirius, do you think it's best?" Harry looked over at his godfather, hoping for action. Sirius just shrugged, at first.

"I'm not sure we will get the answers Moony thinks we will. I think he is more crafty than that, and I'm worried that asking him is going to set off alarm bells. Don't worry, kids, I'm going to think of a Plan B," responded Sirius.

Hermione spoke up. "Even if you get answers, I don't think my parents are going to be too pleased about someone coming through the house last night."

Sirius just nodded. "Just wait on Remus. I'll let him do the talking, and if it leads Dumbledore sniffing around for you more or being more cryptic, we might have to get the Ministry involved — but I'll need your help in convincing the Ministry that I'm safe."

"You can count on us, Sirius. You know that." Harry glanced over at his godfather, wishing he could have convinced Dumbledore before now to have cleared Sirius' name.

They heard Remus coming back up the stairs, and the group said their goodbyes while Sirius promised he would return in a few days to tell them what he had learned. Finally, at a quarter past ten, Harry and Hermione were all alone in the library. Ann had popped in to tell them good night during the goodbyes, and they were exhausted.

"I really think we ought to go over everything that's happened since your birth over the next few days, Harry," Hermione said as she reviewed her notes. "We can piece together a better timeline of where we think he's left things undone or misled people.

"Lied, you mean." Harry felt a lot of anger towards Dumbledore for hunting him down like a common criminal. "Sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to get angry towards you."

"I know, Harry. It's been a long day." She yawned, standing up from the chair. "Let's get a start on it tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7

I swear this stuff writes itself. I have half a page of notes for this story and no timeline as far as how long it will go, so basically I'm just winging it! hope you like it, regardless of my strange methods :) As always, no claim on Harry Potter and I don't profit from this.

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><p>Harry found himself eating a bowl of porridge with golden syrup the next morning, as they sat in Ann's garden, at a small teak table amongst Ann's many plants. Hermione had her notes spread across it, and pen at the ready ("It's much faster than quills as long as we're here, Harry!"). He was hastily shoveling in breakfast, because he knew as soon as Hermione got started, eating would be a useless endeavour.<p>

"All right," she began, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper. "The beginning."

"Well, we'll need to get more details from Professor Lupin, or someone, I think," Harry replied, wiping his mouth and pushing his empty bowl aside. "Things we do know: Professor Dumbledore was the one to leave me at the Dursleys, and Hagrid brought me there, from the house."

"Yes," replied Hermione. "I wonder if your parents had a will."

"I don't know," Harry said, "but Professor Lupin would know, I would think. Or Sirius, seeing as he was godfather and should probably have been in it."

"True," said Hermione, as she wrote down the dates and any questions they had.

"Next would be slightly before Hogwarts, I guess," Harry continued, "Because I didn't really see anyone, including Dumbledore, during that time. I didn't see Dumbledore until Hogwarts." He had an unreadable expression as he thought about that time. "Though you should mark down that Dumbledore never visited me nor checked on me in 10 years, through the abuse, nor did he ever try to get the authorities involved, despite knowing Voldemort was in Albania and the remaining Death Eaters were being watched still. And he knew I lived in the cupboard under the stairs, according to my Hogwarts letters."

Hermione neatly wrote Harry's response, and replied, "And then slightly before Hogwarts?"

"Well, he sent Hagrid."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Why Hagrid? Professor McGonagall came to my house, to explain everything."

"Who knows? Maybe he thought Hagrid's sheer size would scare the Dursleys," Harry mused.

"Yes, but it sounds like he didn't tell you much about anything," Hermione replied.

"No, not really. At one point he told me no questions, because he wasn't feeling well." Harry sighed. "Yet another way to treat Harry Potter differently than the other muggleborn and muggle raised students, I suppose."

Hermione only nodded. "And then, first year?" she responded, a few moments later.

"Well, there was the train, and the Weasleys at Kings Cross. I am still not sure why he'd want to push me towards the Weasleys, though they are good people." Harry paused.

"Well, we'll dwell on that later." She moved her pen to the next line. "What's next?"

"The first spot of trouble was the troll." Harry thought for a moment. "That night, after you left, he told us all to follow our prefects back to our houses."

"I see," Hermione said. "It doesn't exactly make sense, does it? Though I'm grateful, or you two might never have snuck away to save me…" She shuddered, but continued writing.

"We would have snuck out anyway, Hermione," Harry said as he chuckled. "I'm pretty good at sneaking out."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but continued writing anyway. Harry thought about the rest of the year, and the stone came to mind.

"W—wait a sec, Hermione. Can we go back to Hagrid, for a moment?" Harry asked, thinking of something. "Why would Dumbledore have sent Hagrid on a mission to pick up something secret and very valuable — the stone — while he was also responsible for getting me school supplies that day? I mean, why have Hagrid do it, if this thing was so important, while he was also supposed to be on yet another important errand for Dumbledore? Why not have McGonagall talk to the Dursleys, or pick up the stone on his own, or something?"

"Perhaps he was just being efficient?" Hermione suggested half-heartedly.

"Dumbledore, efficient? Hermione, the man practically speaks in riddles," Harry quipped back. "It's why I rely on you to figure out his speeches, you know."

"That's true, magical society isn't exactly an efficient society." Hermione thought for a second. "We also read that there was an attempt to steal the stone, if you recall. That attempted break-in. Who else would have known about it?"

"I—I'm not sure," said Harry. "But I also don't think Professor Quirrell could have broken into Gringotts alone. It's not only the most secure place — maybe Peter helped him? As a rat? That wouldn't explain how they would have gotten out of the vault. Did they have a goblin with them?"

"Peter couldn't have helped, Harry. Ron didn't lose 'Scabbers' until third year, remember?" Hermione reminded him. "But I don't know how they would have done it. Maybe an Imperius of a Goblin? That would only take one person. But I feel like security might have caught that."

"I think that's something we need to figure out later. Mark it all down, please, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Of course," she replied. "I think figuring out how Professor Quirrell found out that Dumbledore knew where the stone was, or found out where the stone was himself, is quite mysterious."

"Don't forget to make a note about Legil—uh, mind reading, in the timeline when it comes to Quirrell," Harry added.

"Why was that the year that Voldemort came back, anyway? It seems strange to me that he came back your first year at Hogwarts. Maybe because he knew where you were?" Hermione mused as she re-straightened her papers. "Right then, that's a fair bit of the first year, unless you can think of other things to include."

"Well, there's always the question of why Dumbledore saw fit to allow seven dangerous traps in a school of children to protect something that had nothing to do with the school," Harry dryly stated. "Or how about the fact that he — nor anyone else — explained my mother's sacrifice meant that Voldemort could not touch me?"

"Interesting, I didn't think of that one," Hermione said. "Dumbledore had a trap set for the stone. Why, though? It meant that the person going through could get the stone from the mirror. Why all the traps beforehand? Students wouldn't have known to try to get the stone, and Voldemort's supporters would have wanted to get the stone but not use it. That doesn't make much sense."

"Hmm," responded Harry, thinking. "That's true - in fact, wouldn't you assume that would be the case, that a Death Eater or other supporter would be the one to try to get it, and obviously not use it? So did he know that Voldemort himself would try? He can't have, because Voldemort has no body since it was destroyed that Halloween. Did he know about Quirrell?" Harry stood up from the chair, pacing back and forth down the garden path. "Would he have dropped a hint about where to find the stone to try to lead Quirrell to it at Gringotts? How else would anyone have known - unless he was overheard talking to Hagrid by someone already in the building? How did he never suspect a professor?"

Hermione gasped. "That's — that's brilliant, Harry, and true! It's possible he didn't know who was going after the stone, but I can't believe that — why else would he have had it, and not Flamel, who was still using it? And how else would anyone have known about the vault, considering Gringotts takes pride in trapping thieves to their deaths?" She wrinkled her nose. "Rather disgusting, though."

"I think Dumbledore had to know it was a leak inside the castle," Harry replied. "The only question is, why didn't he do anything about it then? And Snape was a Death Eater - how can he be so sure that he is no longer loyal to Voldemort? There are a lot of questions to be answered already."

"I just don't know how we'll get answers," Hermione said as she re-read the notes from the morning. "Dumbledore's tried very hard to hide his involvement in any mistakes."

The pair decided it was time for lunch and more chores, vowing to come back after dinner no matter how tired they were. Hermione wanted to have it done before Sirius came back; Harry agreed that if Plan B was needed, they would need to have their work done, to make things easier for Sirius and Remus to understand.

* * *

><p>After a long afternoon of repotting flats of herbs for Ann and then sweeping the patio in the garden, Harry's body felt exhausted but his mind was racing from all the issues he and Hermione had found, and that was only up through first year. Three more years of Dumbledore to go, and Harry was terrified at what they would think of next.<p>

He was laying on the grass, having finished his dinner of Ann's delicious roast chicken, and waiting for Hermione, who had wanted to call her parents and talk to them briefly. As he lay there, watching the last dregs of sunset wash across the sky, he worried over Sirius. They might not know Dumbledore's motivations, but he knew enough to be wary, and Sirius asking questions might not be the best idea for an unregistered animagus on the run. He sighed, and wondered what his parents would say, and think, if they knew what was happening. He knew little about his father's side of the family, and he wondered about them, too. His father was a pureblood; he had to be related to some in the wizarding world, yet Harry had no history to go by, and he worried about asking Dumbledore. Perhaps Sirius would know, he mused, as he realized that Sirius and Hermione were the only reasons he was not alone in the world. Ron, too, maybe — but Sirius chose to be his godfather, and Hermione chose to be his friend, no other influences involved. He felt happy when he remembered that, and wondered if that was what it was like to truly have a family.

Hermione returned as the moon became brighter in the sky, and dusk had fully set upon them. "We should probably work inside, Harry," she said, but nevertheless, she sat down next to him on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees. "Pretty sunset?"

"Yes, very," he said, "and it helped remind me of some of the happy things in my life."

"That's good," Hermione said as she smiled down at him. "Like what?"

"Oh, finally having a real friend. A real family," he responded. "It feels nice."

"Oh, Harry," she said, and her eyes clouded with tears. "I'm just sorry you didn't know that feeling before now."

"Well, it's even more of a reason to get to the bottom of these questions," he said as he stood up, brushing off his shorts. He felt uncomfortable at making Hermione cry, he didn't want to make her cry on his behalf, and luckily, she said nothing else. He offered her his hand, and she grabbed it, pulling herself up.

"You're right. We should get back to work," she responded as they headed towards the house.

"How are your parents?" Harry asked.

"They're doing well. I think they're coming to visit at the weekend. Nothing in the house was stolen and no one has been back. I think it was probably Dumbledore's Order," said Hermione, getting to the information that she knew Harry wanted.

"I see," he said, "do you think we should contact someone about that? He can't just go bursting into houses."

"Maybe," Hermione said evasively. "Let's wait for Professor Lupin to get back to us."

They entered the house and settled quickly in the library, with Ann bringing up a pot of tea, and Hermione got straight to business.

"So the summer between first and second year?," she asked.

"Actually, I've been thinking about that. Dobby popped in that summer, and while I know now that he is a trusted friend, I didn't know whose elf he was or why he was there before," said Harry. "And how did he know to find me there, never having met me?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Hermione had one eyebrow up as she bit her lip.

"Right, didn't think of it," Harry said, and said "Dobby?" a bit louder than usual.

"Hello, Harry, sir!" Dobby squeaked, clearly excited to be visiting Harry again. "Is Harry Potter in need of something?"

"Well, sort of, Dobby. How did you know where I lived back when you came to visit me after my second year?" Harry noticed Dobby deflated slightly, as if he'd done something wrong.

"D-Dobby overheard, Harry Potter."

"But where? Where do people talk about where I live?" Harry enquired, puzzled.

"Old Master took Dobby to the Ministry of Magic to carry a stack of books and a bag of Galleons to the Minister's office. Master accidentally walked in on Professor Dumbledore and the Minister discussing you, Harry Potter, and the Minister wanted to "know how it worked". All Dobby heard was "the wards on Privet." Then Master apologized and we left. Dobby heard Master muttering about Harry Potter after that and Dobby guessed." The small elf looked thoroughly shamed.

"No matter, Dobby, it is not your fault," Hermione said, nudging Harry's arm. Harry was shocked that Dumbledore would speak of his house in somewhere as unsecured as Fudge's office, but he came back to reality quickly.

"Right, Dobby, it wasn't your fault. Thank you for trying to save me." As Dobby popped away, Hermione decided it was time for bed.

"I know there's a lot left to think about, Harry, but I've just had some ideas I'm going to jot down before bed and we will get to them tomorrow. For now, let's rest." She stood up, scribbling. "There are a lot of things we have to discuss tomorrow, that's for sure.


	8. Chapter 8

I know it feels like the story may be moving a bit slow, but they're at a place where magic can be tracked, trying to solve some mysteries to fill the time. It's going to pick up in the next few chapters, but we needed these last couple of chapters to better understand just how Dumbledore is manipulating, well, everyone. Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

><p>The pair woke up to rain and a clean house the next day, so Ann told them to feel free to spend their time in the library. She was kind to bring them breakfast straight up to the library, and refused Harry's offer to wash the dishes; Harry felt like he, too, had a grandmother for this brief moment on the run. He thought to himself that it was rather nice, feeling as if all these people truly cared.<p>

He had pulled out his homework planner in an effort to try to remember the events of the previous years when Hermione came in and plopped down in one of the soft worn velvet chairs.

"I still can't believe Dumbledore would tell people where you live," she said in a matter of fact tone. Harry looked up.

"Good morning to you too, Hermione."

"Sorry," she replied, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. "I'm just so angry and frustrated. The lies seem complicated, the more we think about them."

"Well, we've caught a lucky break this morning. I was thinking about it in bed and I remember something that tipped me off about the Weasleys," Harry replied.

"What's that?" she asked, finding the correct sheet of paper on which to begin.

"When the Weasleys saved me that second summer after I was locked in my room, I remember the morning we got our Hogwarts letters. Mr. Weasley said something to the effect of 'Dumbledore already knows you're here, doesn't miss a trick.'" At the time I thought it wasn't surprising but then, he didn't send out a search party for me when I went to the Weasleys."

"I think he knows the Weasleys are trustworthy, Harry," Hermione responded.

"No, it's not about their trustworthiness so much as Dumbledore didn't take you at your word. He didn't check for me at the Weasleys, but he did go to your house after you had said you hadn't seen me. And if he knew the Death Eaters and Voldemort were on the move, as most people would suspect given that he knew about Voldemort on the back of Professor Quirrell's head," Harry brusquely stated, "then why on earth would it make a difference between the Weasleys and you? In fact, the Weasleys are known in the magic community; your house and your family's houses are not — it's almost assured that I would have been safer with you."

"This is just more evidence to add to the pile," Hermione said as she wrote down the words to their timeline.

"It's getting to be quite a large pile," Harry stated.

"This also leads me back to the Death Eaters. They had to have been assembled since I fought Voldemort in front of the Mirror of Erised, if not before then, because how else would Lucius Malfoy have known that he should give the diary to Ginny Weasley, and what it would even help do?" Harry stopped for a second.

Hermione interjected, "And it's interesting that he gave it to a pureblood witch considered to be a blood traitor whose family was so close to Dumbledore, a witch who idolized you." She paused for a moment, checking her notes. "While we're on the subject of the chamber of secrets, it's interesting to note that Dumbledore never informed my parents of my petrification."

Harry looked bewildered. "Really, they didn't know?"

"If they did, do you really think they'd have let me go back to Hogwarts?" Hermione said, and then gave a wan smile. "I wouldn't be so quick to let my daughter go back after a monster almost killed her, and she was only just saved by her own ingenuity."

"I don't understand how he never looked for the Chamber of Secrets before. Or, even if he did, how he never managed to go in, never managed to figure out there was a basilisk down there. You were a second year who seemed to figure it out in a matter of weeks." Harry looked indignant. "No one ever asked Hagrid to reopen it or tried to themselves, because they were content with just letting a monster roam around below the castle for fifty years?"

"Sometimes I suspect that the magical world can be quite obtuse, Harry," Hermione said as she opened "Hogwarts, A History" and leafed through a few pages. "It always seems that they're willing to sink to the status quo, never better."

Harry considered this after eating a quick lunch, as Hermione wrote down all the memories that related to their timeline. He and Hermione were regularly appalled by things like abusing house elves, poorly written and even untruthful articles in the Daily Prophet, and the system where muggleborns, though fully magic, were never quite accepted in the same way as purebloods. Squibs and muggles were to be pitied, despite the worlds being different, not necessarily better. He sighed as he realized how Hermione must have come to this conclusion, and felt sad that his friend would not be taken more seriously by those who were in power.

Later, they sat in silence as they ate dinner, both weary from the long hours of housework and mentally tired from dissecting Harry's life, and were surprised to hear a knock at the door after a few minutes.

Ann called up, "Hermione, a visitor." Hermione glanced at Harry, both of them wondering the same thing: is it Dumbledore?

To Hermione's surprise, it was Remus. She walked back up the stairs with him, not saying a word, but cursing her Gran for surprising her like that and also suspecting that Gran was stalling just to talk to Remus some more.

"Harry!" Remus said as he entered the room. Harry let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

"Professor Lupin, you scared me. I thought you might be—" Harry was interrupted.

"No, and if Gran does that one more time, I'm going to have to have a word with her," Hermione snorted as she sat back down. "Flirting, honestly."

Remus looked between the two. "So I suppose you want an update? Or should I bore you with the messages that Sirius sent, first?"

"Whichever is best, Professor," Harry said.

"Harry, you and Hermione can call me Remus. I am no longer your professor - and I doubt I ever will be again," the graying man said, settling into a chair. "The best news is probably from Sirius. He wants you to know that he wanted to come tonight, but he was held up by putting Plan B into motion, just in case."

"What is Plan B?" Hermione asked.

"Just for safety reasons, I can't discuss here, and I can't do any magic that would get you caught, Hermione," replied Remus as he winked at her.

"Right, we will wait. What is your other news?" enquired Harry, feeling hopeful that Remus would help them get somewhere with their endless questions.

"Dumbledore is off, and I have no idea what he's doing, so sadly, I have not yet asked him anything. But Padfoot convinced me that perhaps we shouldn't be doing that in the first place. Instead, I decided to ask the Weasleys some questions," Remus said, leaning back farther into the chair. "I don't think you'll like the answers. For one thing, Molly doesn't think Dumbledore reported Voldemort's diary or the Chamber of Secrets to the Ministry, which means for all the Ministry knows, nothing much happened in your second year."

Hermione looked livid. "So I could have died, and no one would have known why?"

"Well, we don't know, because Dumbledore got lucky that no one did die. Molly can't figure out why no one was watching the castle better, with charms and whatnot."

Hermione turned to Harry. "You know, I can't believe that no one would know how Moaning Myrtle died — Dumbledore never asked, yet he seems to know all about the castle? I wonder if he was letting it happen."

Remus had a wry smile on his face. "Well, you really won't like the next part. Dumbledore specifically asked the Weasleys to keep quiet about Voldemort in the chamber and the Professor who was acting as a vessel for Voldemort. The Weasleys agreed because they agreed with him not wanting to incite panic."

"Interesting that it would be his direct actions inciting panic," Hermione remarked coldly.

Harry spoke up. "Why would they agree to that? It doesn't seem like the smartest thing to do when the dark lord is threatening your family."

"I didn't want to pry too deeply into Molly Weasley's reasoning, sorry, Harry. I can't really answer, and what she said isn't quite enough to make any of us look bad, should Dumbledore try legilimancy. But I do have more; the third tidbit is that Molly happened to know how Dumbledore found out that Harry was gone," he said with a small grimace. "Your neighbor, Mrs. Figg, is that it? She's a Squib who reports on you to Dumbledore, as she is part of the Order. I didn't know before this, but Molly said that was the only reason she hadn't gone and gotten you during your second year; Mrs. Figg was still watching you."

Harry's demeanor changed instantly. "You meant the little old lady with the cats across the street was 'watching' me out her windows for fourteen years but never intervened when they were starving me or beating me, putting bars on my windows, nothing?" he yelled as he jumped out of his seat. Hermione felt the tingle in the air; he was going to accidentally cause something to happen, magically, with all his anger.

"Harry, I'm sorry to be the bearer of this news, but what's done is done and now you know. The important thing is, we're going to have to watch Dumbledore," Remus responded, trying to soothe Harry's anger before he blew out all the windows of the house.

"No, Remus, no — you couldn't understand. You don't understand. Mrs. Figg and Dumbledore knew about the abuse, they had to, but they didn't care. Mrs. Figg could have easily reported it to people who could have helped me yet she took instructions from a meddling old man. And it's looking more and more like I'm a pawn in a twisted game," Harry snapped, as he turned and stormed out of the house.

Hermione and Remus looked at one another. "I'm not surprised by his reaction, but I do have some questions myself," she said, feeling awkward about Harry taking his anger out on Remus. She wanted to run after him, but she knew she'd be better off giving him space.

"Fire away, Hermione. You always do have good questions," Remus laughed. "He handled that better than I expected, actually. James would have been calling for blood straight away."

"Well, really, it's just the one — how has no one ever prodded deeper into this?" Hermione asked, looking genuine. "It's just surprising how easily he could convince the Weasleys not to incite panic, for example, but that panic would be well deserved."

Remus responded in a diplomatic fashion. "He's done a lot of good, too, Hermione. You must realize that he's sort of bought his way into not being questioned."

"So how long do we wait for Sirius? I'm not sure I can take much more of the wizarding society unofficial motto to maintain the status quo forever," she retorted, resting her head in her hands. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be grumpy with you. But I've been taking detailed notes on how little everyone has thought of Harry, and it's quite a load on me."

"Sirius is coming in the morning. All I can say is to be ready to go if he says go." Remus said, looking towards her with kindness as he could see the weariness in her eyes. "I think he's going to say go," he added after a moment.

Hermione nodded. "Understood. If you don't mind, though, I think I'd better check on Harry before he blows up one of the chickens."

"Of course. I know my way out, and I'm sure your Gran wouldn't mind helping me." He winked as he stood to leave the room, and Hermione let out a sigh. She wasn't positive that she would be returning to her family, let alone Hogwarts. As she walked through the garden, she had a laugh that perhaps it was a good thing she hadn't started that homework quite yet.

"What is there to laugh about?" Harry grumpily asked as he kicked some stones near the edge of the path. "I don't find it funny."

"I wasn't laughing at you, Harry. I was laughing at the fact that it may pay off to not have done my Hogwarts homework at the beginning of summer, for once," she said as she sobered. "I'm really sorry that your neighbor knew."

He gazed over the pasture. "It happened. Remus is right, I can't change it. I can't change any of this."

Hermione put her hand on his arm as she, too, gazed out. "That's not true. You've changed a lot, including saving Sirius when Dumbledore wouldn't — or couldn't, I don't know anymore. You're not destined to become someone's pawn, if that's how you're feeling."

Harry didn't say anything. "I don't know if we're being spied on, but Remus said that we should be ready tomorrow just in case. He couldn't say anything else and I wouldn't say it out here, even if he had, sorry," she said. Harry nodded, and sat down on the ground, knees bent in front of him. Hermione sat down the same way, right next to him.

"I used to wonder what it was like to have a normal life. I think I'll always be wondering," he said. He looked at her and wrapped an arm around her, and she blushed slightly. "But it helps having someone like you around."

Hermione scoffed. "I don't know. I'm not into quidditch and I know you're not really a fan of my book habit, as it were," she said. "I'm sure Ron is a bit better, and it has to be a relief to know that his family isn't blindly supporting Dumbledore."

"I'm still not sure about how they're supporting Dumbledore, but Ron is— different. I don't know, Hermione, you listen, you think. You're like my right hand; you are patient and never tell me that you can't help. I just — I appreciate it. You're the best friend I could have in this."

Hermione blushed even deeper red. "Thank you for the compliment, Harry." She leaned her head on his shoulder, and even as she thought to herself that she shouldn't, she thought about what it would be like to be this close to Harry everyday.

The two of them sat, looking at the stars, until Ann called from the house, telling them it was time to lock up. They both walked back to the house, neither saying a word about the time they spent together. Harry wasn't sure if that was a best friend thing or if he had crossed some invisible line as he thought about it in bed that night, but he realized it didn't really matter with Hermione; she would never make him feel bad about just wanting to be close.

With that happy thought, he drifted off to sleep, wondering just what Sirius was up to.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry woke up that morning expecting to go back to sleep for a few more minutes, but he never got the chance as Sirius boomed, "Morning, Harry," inches from his ear.

Harry fell out of the bed. "What'dya do that for, Sirius," he grumbled sleepily, rummaging around for his glasses.

"Once a marauder, always a marauder, and we have plenty to do today, kid. Hermione's already going over a checklist of what she wants to bring," Sirius responded as he threw things into Harry's trunk.

"Bring? Oh, right, we're leaving." Harry pulled on pants and walked down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Sirius called after him, "When you get out of the loo, say your goodbyes to Ann. We're going on a vacation!"

* * *

><p>Hermione and Harry were standing at the front of the house, waiting for Remus to meet them so they could all apparate to what Sirius was calling a 'vacation.' While she was a strong, stolid woman, Harry could see that she was near tears saying goodbye to Hermione. He suspected that she knew more than she let on about how dangerous it was for Hermione to be near him, and it wasn't the first time that he felt a stab of guilt about letting her come along with him. He corrected himself - he'd never let her, she'd always just insisted. That was Hermione, and as sad as Ann looked, he knew that Ann likely understood - Hermione got the stubborn and emotionally strong traits from somewhere, after all.<p>

Finally, Remus popped in, looking weary. "Dumbledore suspects something. We need to go, as soon as possible." Hermione nodded.

Sirius turned to Remus. "Well, then, Moony — tell them!"

"Right, right," Remus replied. "We're going to Marauder Manor, 33 Rue de Lille, Nice. Remember to think hard about it, kids." With that, Sirius grabbed Harry's arm and Remus grabbed Hermione's, and they were off.

Ann teared up as she waved them a last goodbye, and hoped they wouldn't be caught up in this meddlesome manipulation for too much longer. She smiled as she thought of the pair Harry and Hermione made; they hadn't argued once, but rather, worked together like a well-running engine. She hoped they would see, someday, what she could see, as she made her way back into the house, holding a note Hermione had left for her parents. "Oh, to be young," she remarked to no one in particular.

* * *

><p>The four were suddenly standing in front of an iron gate that, at first glance, had no house behind it. It took a bit of prodding to remember Remus' words before they could see it, and enter the gate.<p>

"So, France?" Harry asked, looking around as they walked up to the door. It was beyond a simple villa; it was more of an estate, and it had a fountain out in front.

Sirius nodded. "I did a little real estate shopping in my ancestor's holdings recently, and found the place. It passed down from my mother's side so Bella and Narcissa won't know about it, and I doubt Dumbledore would, either. I had some help from the goblins at Gringotts in warding and protecting the place. A large account holder seems to really get things moving, on their part."

Hermione turned to Remus as Sirius unlocked the front door. "How did you know that Dumbledore was on to you? Or us, I should say."

"I was late because he kept trying to stall me. I think he knows that Sirius and I have something up our sleeves, but I don't think that he believes it has to do with you. I assume he thinks that Sirius and I are out searching for you, against his orders for Sirius to stay in the house where it's safe." Remus laughed as he finished, "I don't think anyone believes Sirius is just lazing about on the roof, getting some sun."

Harry turned to Sirius, who had unlocked the door and now was trying to usher everyone inside to finish the conversation. "You were locked up, too, by him? Without explanation?"

"Well, the explanation is that I'm not currently a free man, Harry," Sirius said, sighing. "But the problem with that explanation is that, thanks to you and Hermione, I know I could be — and even if I didn't know, it's my life to risk, should I want to."

Harry stepped inside, and what he saw made his jaw drop. "You own this?" He turned to Sirius. "It's—"

He was interrupted by Hermione, who finished under her breath, "Amazing. Simply amazing." The manor's entry was flanked by two staircases that swooped down, with marble floors and iron railing.

"Well, my ancestors did build it as a vacation house," Sirius joked.

The moldings were not as ornate as some other French estates, but stood out against the pale peach walls. The ceilings were high in the rooms to either side, as well; one was a small parlour, one was a large dining room with a long table. Harry and Hermione both wanted to wander around, but Sirius ushered them to get up the stairs to find the house elves at the top so they could get their trunks retrieved.

He showed them each to a room; Harry's was a dark, inky blue with tiny twinkling stars on the ceiling, with large windows that let in plenty of light during the day. The bedding was all crisp white edged with gold, and Harry thought that it might be the best room he could ever hope to have in his life. His room had its own bathroom (lots more marble with blue and maroon) and a closet larger than his last bedroom at Privet Drive.

"Welcome home, Harry," Sirius said with a smile. Harry beamed back at Sirius and even gave him a huge hug as they walked down the hall to Hermione's room.

Hers was a rich, dark purple with a huge carved gold-painted bed, sage colored bedding, and a small mahogany writing desk wedged between two large mahogany bookshelves, full of plenty of tomes already. She smiled as she touched the desk, which had a vase of lilies and rolls of parchment already laid out on top. "You thought of everything, Sirius."

He smiled at Hermione. "I can't legally keep you here or welcome you home, Hermione, but I hope you feel comfortable for as long as you can stay."

"I'm sure I will," she said as she squeezed him in one of her tightest hugs. "I appreciate that you trust us."

"You two go get settled, I'll send the house elves up to help you. Before you even ask, Hermione, I do offer them pay," he grinned, as Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "They don't accept, but I do offer them many things. Anyway, get settled in, and come down for lunch. We'll discuss what to do from here."

* * *

><p>Sirius leaned back in his chair after a huge lunch. Harry thought he'd never been quite so full, and Hermione and Remus both looked as if they enjoyed it thoroughly, too. Sirius started the conversation they all were somewhat dreading. "So… Dumbledore," he said.<p>

Hermione shuffled her notes. "It looks like he either knew there was a leak in the castle or else he leaked the whereabouts of the Philosopher's Stone to a Death Eater. He would have known it had to be someone at Hogwarts because he informed Hagrid to pick up the stone in a vault at Gringotts, the same day that someone attempted to steal the stone. We also wonder if maybe he meant to let Voldemort in or else knew Quirrell had Voldemort inside his head, because the way to retrieve the stone was only to want it but not want to use it — which means a Death Eater very well could have gotten it."

"There's no other way for the information to have gotten outside Hogwarts?" Sirius asked, trying to process all the information.

"Not that we can think of, unless Hagrid told someone. Which he did later tell someone about one of the traps set to get to the stone, so it's not entirely farfetched," Hermione sighed. "But it still wouldn't explain why Dumbledore would set the mechanism to retrieve the stone as someone wanting it, but not to use it. How could he not think of a Death Eater wanting it? We didn't know it at the time, but they existed, obviously, and at that time, they had to have been meeting, in order for Lucius to have plans to give the diary to Ginny only a few weeks later.

Remus piped up. "For all of Dumbledore's faults, not being thorough is not one of them — that is to say, he's a master at logic. He should have seen the issue with that right away."

"So let's say he is setting me up," Harry said, trying to get past the endless questions. "What do we do about it?"

"Well, I don't think you should go back to that school, Harry! Voldemort has already tried to kill you there three times," Sirius replied. "Plus, I hear that Beauxbatons has quite the lookers," Sirius said, with a wink.

"What if Dumbledore knows more about Voldemort than we do, and what it's going to take to stop him?" Hermione countered.

"If he does, it's his loss for playing this game," Harry said, looking at her. "Do you really want to keep trying to guess at his methods?"

"Not particularly, but we also don't know what's going to happen in this new era of Voldemort reigning terror," she responded. "We might need his help - he is the only wizard that Tom Riddle ever feared."

"I think we're going to have to contact him," said Remus. "We should lay out some of what we want answers to, but not all of it. For now, why don't you two roam the grounds while Sirius and I discuss what to say. We will have to be careful."

Hermione looked like she wanted to argue, but Harry had stood up and held out his hand to help her up before she could speak. They walked down the hall, stopping at a room with tan walls, lined with bookshelves.

"Oh, Harry, the library. It's brilliant," she breathed, drawn in by the charm. Harry saw a desk with some portraits behind it, and approached them as Hermione scanned the shelves.

"Who are you?" asked Harry, to the biggest painting.

"I am Professor Amrose Swott, former Headmaster of Hogwarts," the man in the painting replied.

Harry gulped. "You—you won't tell Dumbledore about me, will you?" he asked as he trembled slightly.

Professor Swott had a deep laugh. "Dear boy! I couldn't tell if I wanted to. The paintings are under the Fidelius, too, you know. I can't speak a word of your location."

Harry let out a breath. "Oh, thank Merlin."

"No, no, the name's Swott, remember? Anyway, I've recently overheard Dumbledore speaking about you going missing. He's in quite a state, looking for you, as if you were a misplaced wand. I don't trust him; something about his demeanor in this is making me uneasy." Professor Swott looked past Harry. "And hello to you too, young miss."

Harry turned around. "Hermione, this is Professor Amrose Swott, a former Hogwarts Headmaster who I think might be able to help us, and can't tell anyone where we are because of the Charm."

Hermione only grinned at the stroke of luck. Their summer hols might have just gotten a lot easier, she thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi there! I wanted to mention here that I'm unwell; I'm dealing with an illness that's chronic and not exactly on a timetable, so I don't know how long these next chapters will take. Getting my brain to cooperate during these times is like trying to slog through Fred and George's Portable Swamp, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, and I'll keep attempting to do as much writing as I can.

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><p>"Please, children, take a seat and we shall discuss what needs to be done," Professor Swott's portrait said. They each found a leather desk chair and brought them over to the desk.<p>

"What are you allowed to tell us about Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.

"He has not forbid me to speak in other portraits, like some previous headmasters. I believe he does not know I have other portraits still," Professor Swott replied. "I can tell you only as much as I know, or as much as my portrait remembers, that is."

"I see," Harry said. "Could you tell us what he knows about me?"

"Certainly," replied Professor Swott, "but I don't think you will like it much. As I said before, he's in quite a state over you going missing. The interesting part is that he also speaks about you to the greasy Professor Snape quite a bit."

"I didn't know Snape would want to discuss me, unless it's to complain about me," Harry responded darkly.

"No, these aren't complaints. Well, not exactly, for you see, Dumbledore gives reports on you to Snape, for some reason. They talk mostly about what you will be 'forced to do,' in Dumbledore's words. I get the feeling that he means you will have to fight Voldemort again."

"Harry, maybe we should get Sirius and Remus. This is good information," Hermione said, clearly looking like she was itching to write.

"Oh my, more visitors! Please do bring them in. I'm sure I could use more conversation. It does get a bit dusty and lonely in an old abandoned house," the portrait boomed. He had quite the personality for someone made only of oil paint and varnish, Harry thought. Hermione vanished out the door, returning a few minutes later.

"May I introduce you marauders to Professor Amrose Swott, a previous Hogwarts Headmaster who has unrestricted access to tell us what we need to know — but also is protected by the Fidelius Charm? Professor Swott, this is Remus Lupin and Sirius Black," Harry finished.

"This house just gets better," mumbled Sirius as Remus donned a look of surprise and said nothing.

"Well, well, gents, hurry up. Haven't got all day, you know. No, that's not true, I do, but I want to get on with the story!" Remus pulled out his wand, duplicated the chairs, and they all formed a half circle around the large framed painting.

"Now, as I was saying to the children, Dumbledore has been telling this Professor Snape about the things he suspects Harry will do, and the things he thinks Harry should do — things that I assume to mean fighting Voldemort. Snape, in turn, seems to tell Dumbledore little tidbits about Voldemort's cronies that he's supposedly heard somewhere."

"Yes, we know Snape was a Death Eater," Harry replied.

"Is a Death Eater, my dear boy. You see, Dumbledore is using him to gain knowledge of Voldemort, and Voldemort likely believes he's doing the reverse, knowledge on Dumbledore. I haven't the slightest notion of who is playing whom, but this first thing is for certain: Dumbledore most assuredly did know that Voldemort had a home, shall we say, inside your Professor."

"Why would Dumbledore want to…" Hermione's words trailed off as she seemed to get an idea; she looked up and instead, replied, "He did it to set Harry up. To test the theory of Harry's mother's protection. He took a risk because he wanted to know if he'd been right about the protection and—", she gasped, tears streaming down her face as she turned toward Harry, "—if Harry even stood a chance fighting against Voldemort, or—or not," she said, her voice becoming a high pitched sob.

"He used me as a pawn?" Harry exclaimed, as Sirius jumped up yelling incomprehensibly. Remus hushed all of them.

The portrait lazily continued, "Yes, yes, Dumbledore needed to know his guesses were accurate. Of course, there's no doubt that Voldemort would have come after you anyway —"

Harry held up a hand. "Thank you, Professor Swott, but I know what comes next. Dumbledore monitors me so closely because he thinks I need him to finish off Voldemort, and it's all for the greater good, as if he's using me as some kind of bait. If he thought I couldn't fight Voldemort at all, I have no doubt I'd be locked up somewhere. Why isn't he doing a better job of training me? Throwing me into needless battles isn't good enough," Harry grumbled.

"If I had all the answers, I'd be a much brighter portrait," Professor Swott joked as he winked. "Get it, brighter? Oh, I have been waiting quite a time for an audience," he wheezed as his laugher caught up with him, his painted eyes glistening with tiny teardrops. Hermione rolled her eyes; Harry looked at Sirius and didn't need to ask, to know what he was thinking about Dumbledore; his face said it all.

After a few minutes of dusty-sounding coughing, Professor Swott spoke again. "I'm afraid I need to return to the Headmaster's office. You may ask more questions later, and you have my vow of secrecy," he said in all seriousness. With that, he promptly walked out of his frame, adjusting his robes.

Hermione's eyes were now dry, but still red as she spoke. "If Dumbledore keeps up with this game, you're going to be killed, Harry. I don't understand why you can't get training."

Sirius and Remus looked at one another. "Maybe we can think of another way," Remus said carefully. "I have some owls to send. I'll see you all at dinner. In the meantime, Hermione and Harry, I hate to assign you some reading, but you would do well to look through the library and find as many books on defense as you can."

"I'll ask some elves to search at — at the other place — for some defense books," Sirius said, shaking his head. "I don't want to make it too obvious, though."

Everyone went about their tasks, all wonder who exactly Dumbledore was.


	11. Chapter 11

Don't you just hate when you make a mistake in the last freaking line of the last chapter? Ah well, continuing on. Still taking my time… harder to crank out two chapters a day with this issue, but anyway, carrying on!

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><p>Hermione pulled book out of book off the shelves, placing them all on a rather large table in the center of the library. There had to be thirty volumes piled on the top of the table by the time she reached the end of the first set of shelves. Harry was doing his due diligence in sorting the books - spells, shielding and blocking, and evasive maneuvers were the main stacks, especially spells.<p>

After an hour of close examination of every book spine, Hermione wiped her brow as she sat down. "I think that's all of them, Harry," she said as she pulled the closest stack towards her. "Sirius should look into a catalog of some sort, honestly! This is far too large a library to just jam everything in all haphazardly."

Harry nodded. "Yes, but don't go giving him any ideas about it now, I'm afraid he'll make us do it." He was currently flipping through an old spell book that contained a lot of information about dark magic; leave it to Sirius' family to keep dark magic books lying around. He hadn't found anything of use yet.

Hermione, on the other hand, had swiftly recovered from her tedious search and was now furiously taking notes. Despite finding plenty of quills and ink, he noticed she was still using a ballpoint pen, for speed. He sometimes wondered why wizards remained so clueless of things that would help them immensely — like cut paper and pens. Status quo always seemed to remain so rampant in their thinking.

Turning his attention back to the books, he flipped through a few more until Remus came into the library.

He sat down, and Harry and Hermione looked up. Remus looked carefully neutral as he spoke.

"Right now, Sirius is retrieving Ann, and your parents, Hermione. We're worried that Dumbledore is going to go looking for you. We also know he's a superior occlumens and legilimens, so it's quite obvious that we are going to have to spend the next days before Hogwarts on both those topics as well as defense. I don't know if you'll be returning to Hogwarts, either of you, but we're going to have to tread carefully for now."

Hermione looked delighted that her parents were coming, but still shot a few looks of concern at Harry as Remus spoke. Harry, on the other hand, was relieved to know that he'd be getting some kind of training, beyond the light studying he'd done with Hermione over the summer. "I understand, Remus," Harry responded. "But what about the Weasleys?"

"Well, Harry, we're not yet sure that they are safe, as it were," Remus replied. "Let's focus on the occlumency lessons first." With that, the three of them settled in as Remus conjured a chalkboard and began to go over the logistics of basic occlumency with them.

They were an hour into their lesson when Sirius returned with the Granger family. "Mum, Dad! Gran!" Hermione called as she jumped up to hug them. "I am so glad you're safe."

"So are we, Hermione," Mrs. Granger responded as she pulled her into a tight hug. Mr. Granger shook Harry's hand and both parents were promptly introduced to Remus.

The Grangers, including Ann, went to set up their rooms before supper as Hermione and Harry took turns practicing occlumency with Remus. Surprisingly, Harry was fairly natural at it; Remus attributed this to his nature of holding in his feelings, walling them off from the horrible Dursleys. Hermione had to put a little more effort into it, but they were able to block the most basic mind invasion by the time they bid everyone good night that evening.

Walking up to their rooms together, the two peered into all the doorways along the way, enjoying the splendor that the house had to offer.

"I'm worried, Harry," Hermione mentioned as they wandered out of another doorway. "Even if we get away from Dumbledore, Voldemort could still come looking for our parents, for our friends. We can't save everyone."

"No, but we're studying to save as many as we can, Hermione. We've got to try," Harry responded.

"I'm more curious as to what our training will entail," she said as she yawned. They got to their rooms, and parted. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Hermione. It's going to be okay, you know. I've fought him three times and haven't died yet," he smirked.

"Oh Harry, you've been lucky. Now we know you need more training," she murmured as she walked through her door and closed it.

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><p>Harry awoke the next morning to Remus banging on the door.<p>

"Harry, time to wake up!" He heard a voice through the door, and grumbled. The sun was barely out.

"Remus, five more minutes."

"No, Harry, I'm afraid we've got to get moving. I heard back from— from my owls," he said. "You've got to wake up and pack a small bag of clothing. You're going to meet with some friends."

"All right, all right," Harry muttered. He got dressed and found a leather bag hanging in the closet. He tossed in some essentials, a book, a notebook and headed to breakfast. Once he arrived at the long table, now looking more full with the addition of the Grangers, he saw Hermione already dressed, packed and halfway finished with breakfast.

Sirius nodded at him, as he nursed a cup of black coffee. "Good morning, cub. Remus finally got you up then." He had a half smirk on his face as he took another sip. "Your hair looks like it still wishes it were in bed."

Harry rolled his eyes at his godfather while smoothing down his hair. A breakfast of white pudding, toast and rashers of bacon appeared on the plate before him; a cold goblet of pumpkin juice and a steaming mug of strong tea appeared beside it. Harry dug in, appreciating the variety. He listened in on the Grangers updating Hermione about the muggle news events; it never hurt to have more information to see what Voldemort may have a hand in doing.

Remus entered the room and sat down to a half-eaten plate with a scroll beside it. He took a sip out of a mug and waited for the Grangers to finish, then began.

"Harry and Hermione, I wrote yesterday asking for help for you two from the Goblins. Admittedly, it took quite a bit of convincing on my part, but as a — well, as I have my furry little problem, they believe me more trustworthy than a full human. I also had to pay for these lessons — Sirius did, if we're being honest — and they were most interested to learn more about you, Harry. Especially since it seems that they have not been able to yet speak with you about your inheritance status, Harry, as someone has been watching your mail." Remus leaned back in the chair. "You're going back to England for a bit. Gornuk will be in charge of your account and your education; he is fair enough. Please behave and do not leave the safety of Gringotts."

Harry nodded, and Hermione looked thoughtful as she asked, "How long will we be there?"

"Four days. They assure me that this will be enough time," Remus replied.

"Enough time for me to start a garden here," Ann remarked as she winked at Sirius. "I'm sure this lad will allow me some garden space." Hermione's father rolled his eyes, causing Harry and Hermione to laugh.

Remus got up, and set a broken key on the table between Harry and Hermione, who were sitting next to one another. "This is your portkey. When you're both touching it with your bags on you, I will double tap with my wand and it will send you directly to Gornuk's office." He nodded at the kids. "We'll keep up with occlumency when you return. Learn as much as you can. It might save your lives. And because the goblins are still angry with Ludo Bagman, watch out for traps, just in case. I don't mean to sound as paranoid as Moody, but you can never be too sure."

Both nodded, and Harry took a last swig of pumpkin juice and got up to hug Sirius. Hermione hugged her family and Ann gave both of them a bone crushing embrace as they prepared to leave.

"Please stay safe," said Mrs. Granger, a look of concern on her face.

"We will, mum," Hermione nodded. They each put a finger on the key and Remus double tapped with his wand. Harry felt the jerk behind his navel, and then, they were thrown into a stone room with a large, ornately carved mahogany desk, many weapons hanging on the wall behind the desk as decoration — or Harry hoped.

"Welcome," a goblin with a scratchy, low voice spoke. "You have come to learn, Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded. "And my friend Hermione, also. We're here to hope you can help us train for battle. I fear a long one is coming."

Gornuk looked them over, appearing to size them up. Hermione stood a bit straighter, and Harry tensed his shoulders unconsiously. "You are not goblin warriors, but you will do."

"Thank you," Hermione spoke.

"It is not often we help wizards, but I have heard stories of your defeats of Voldemort. Harry Potter, you are truly great, even if in just the wizard way. You will learn several secrets behind goblin magic in this training."

"Sir, if I could — well, sir, I'm worried about the lack of time here," Harry responded. He knew he wasn't the fastest learner like Hermione, and he worried about learning it all. To his surprise, Gornuk chuckled in a way that almost sounded like strangling.

"Nothing to worry about, Harry Potter," the goblin replied. "You portkeyed to our training facility directly. Every morning, you will enter through this door," he said, pointing to a red door that appeared to have fog seeping under it, at the right. "This door changes time to the previous day. You will repeat the same four days until I feel you are ready, but with full memory of the time previous."

"Ingenious," muttered Hermione, as she stared at the door.

"For now," the goblin continued, "we will get your things put away in your quarters. Follow me." He led them out of a purple door, down a stone hallway lit with torches that glowed a pale blue; the effect felt ghostly. Gornuk stopped in front of a navy blue door, or at least, it appeared that way in the light. It had an ornate metal 3 on it, and it was so low, even Hermione slightly ducked while going through it.

"This is where you will stay," Gornuk gestured to the room. There were two narrow beds, both with blood red bedding. There were no windows; over one bed was a mirror; over the other, two small shelves. The room was small and there was no other furniture, save for one small nightstand. There was a door to the left, at the end of one bed; it was a shared closet and washroom.

"Thanks, Gornuk," Harry said, as hermione took the bed with the shelves above and began to unpack. He dropped his bag onto the other bed.

"Prepare yourselves to learn the goblin warrior way of fighting this afternoon. I will meet you in the same room as before, in half an hour; enter through the violet door today. Tomorrow we will go through the red door and begin your physical training." Gornuk gave a short nod and left.

Hermione checked her watch as Harry pulled his things out and arranged them as best he could. He hadn't brought much, and he hadn't even thought to bring more than four pairs of clothes. Once he was done, he sat down on his bed and looked across to Hermione, who was flipping through books spread across her own bed.

"I'm sorry if it will be awkward to share a room with me, Hermione," he said, voicing the tension they'd both felt upon entering.

"I'm sure you don't snore too badly," she joked with a smirk, "but I'm not sure it matters. I am hoping we're going to be too exhausted to care once we get back here. We should maximize this time."

"I was thinking the same. How much time do we have left?" Harry responded.

"Twenty minutes. Not much to unpack," she replied.

"Should we go out and explore the hall?" he asked.

"Are you mad, Harry? Remus told us to listen, and we don't have permission. We could easily make the goblins angry and we're here at their courtesy. Don't do anything to get us killed!" she half-shrieked, messing up her books.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized, sheepish. "It's just kind of a small place to call home for a bit."

"I'm sure we'll see more as lessons pass," she said warily, "but let's not start on the wrong foot."

Harry laid back on the slightly uncomfortable mattress and stared at the stone ceiling. There were plenty of lamps in this room, but he still felt as though he were in a stone prison. He was angry Dumbledore could have pushed him into doing so many things, making Harry feel like he had to be a protector of the world. Dumbledore could have not hired Voldemort, he could have monitored the cup better — even Cedric's death could partially be lain at Dumbledore's feet. And the ministry not believing Dumbledore was entirely Dumbledore's fault, too; he could have let Fudge in on what was happening the whole time, but he couldn't risk being removed from power, of course. Harry rolled his eyes and glanced over at Hermione, who was putting away her books.

Time to meet his new destiny of battling two evils, he thought to himself. Hopefully by the time they got back, Sirius and Remus would have a better plan.


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry this took so long! It was a long chapter to write (and I did some research to make the story flow better), but at least I'm finally feeling better. Harry Potter still isn't mine! 

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><p>Harry and Hermione stood in front of the desk, as Gornuk sat, scrawling something on a piece of paper. Finally, he looked up.<p>

"Very well," he started, "that you are on time." He leaped down from a tall, spindly chair made of something that looked like bone. "Harry Potter, do you know why the goblins have accepted you here?"

Harry glanced at Hermione. "No, sir, Remus told me you accept payment. I thought — well, maybe you run a school, I'm not sure."

Gornuk walked around the desk and smiled at Harry, folding his hands together in front of them. "No, we do not run a school. At least, not for your kind." He paused to lock the door. "Mister Potter, Goblin society would not usually sink to the depths of this war. However, it has been foretold by our advisors, who read greatly into the astrological signs of the stars, that this war could affect our entire society. Two great wizards are competing for great power; as we hold financial power in your world, we would be decimated at the hands of either one, potentially. We do not choose to stay idle and be robbed blind, as it were."

Hermione trembled, but spoke up, "What—why does this have anything to do with Harry? Other than that he's a target," she said.

Gornuk looked over at her. "I see your Headmaster has done you no favors in telling you the truth," he said as he turned back to look at Harry. "You are the Chosen One to fight Voldemort, the favorite to win, as dictated by the stars — and if I'm not mistaken, also dictated by a teacher at the school."

Harry hadn't a clue what this meant. "You mean, I am the only one to fight Voldemort?"

"No, Mr. Potter. You are the only one who stands a chance of winning. And while your Professor Dumbledore may have his reasons for keeping this secret, I do not; I, and all goblins, wish for you to be prepared so that we may continue in our society, unharmed." Gornuk cleared his throat, and then continued. "While you are not built like goblins, you can be stronger. This is your first task," he said, and opened a dark green door next to the red door that Harry was sure had not been there earlier. "Get in the best physical shape you can. You will do this three hours every day you are here."

The room contained what appeared to be racks of muggle weights, a muggle treadmill, a punching bag and was lined with mirrors on the walls and mats on the floor. There were several posters and books in a corner, and next to that, a shelf with water and snacks.

Gornuk urged them inside. "Unfortunately, I do not know enough about the physical attributes of humankind to be able to explain the exercises, but I have acquired enough instruction from muggles to be able to cobble together routines for you. You may read the books to figure out new exercises. Please do all that you can to ensure you will be prepared for physical and wand battling." With that, he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Hermione began stretching, and Harry followed.

"I must admit," she began, "I was rather enjoying that Magic folk do not put a premium on exercise like the Muggles do."

Harry grinned. "It will be nice to work out some of the aggression I'm feeling towards old Dumbledore," he remarked.

"You, the Chosen One!" she exclaimed, "I can't believe he didn't tell you."

"I can," replied Harry. "He didn't want it to get out that he was pulling the strings of the puppet he was trying to turn me into. He wanted to control this."

"Do you think it's really about control?" Hermione mused, and Harry looked puzzled.

"Well, if it's not about control, what else would it be about?" Harry scoffed.

Hermione stopped stretching and looked up. "What else? You heard Gornuk. Power, legitimate power. If Dumbledore stopped You-Know-Who using you, not only would he be able to control the story about what happened, but influence literally everything from education to politics."

Harry didn't know how to respond. "Maybe, Hermione. We'd better get started. We don't have a lot of time to get into warrior condition." The pair switched off between running and using the punching bag; the posters near the bag had moving pictures to give them an idea of what good form was.

Two and a half hours later, Gornuk showed up at the door to find a sweaty, panting pair of teens. His grin was almost sinister, Harry thought, as he followed Gornuk back into the office. "Very good, very good, but you'll have to work harder than that tomorrow," Gornuk said as he sat behind the desk. "For the rest of today's training, we're going to discuss how goblins use magic to determine who is lying. Then, Mr. Potter has a meeting with our financial accounts team."

"There's magic for honesty? But why would anyone lie if that were true, I don't know…" Hermione trailed off as Gornuk nodded.

"Yes, magic exists in a form to be able to accurately tell if someone is being honest with you. It is similar to the wizardry's legilimancy, if you are familiar?" Gornuk asked, and the pair nodded. "Good, it is very similar to that. It is a skill where you do not read a mind, but an energy."

"An aura?" Harry asked, thinking back to Trelawney's poor excuses for divination.

Gornuk looked sharply at him and replied, "Auras are a physical manifestation of energy that some may see. Most, however, must use reading energy instead of seeing auras."

The goblin stood, and walked over in front of Harry. "I want you to look deep into my eyes." Harry did ask he asked; suddenly, he felt a sensation wash over him, much like a tingling, but not wholly unpleasant or painful. "You felt it then," the goblin remarked as Harry shuddered just a bit. "The practice of energy reading does require one to create something intangible to be able to 'read' with the senses." He walked over toward Hermione, and did the same to her. She fought to keep still, and Gornuk laughed a bit. "You can move. It is expected."

She shook her body, as one would try to shake off a tangible item, and Gornuk stood between the pair again. "It is easy, once you focus, to read an energy. Simply stare one in the blacks of the eyes and focus only on seeing what is there. Your magic will create a feeling that allows you to intuitively know if the person is currently trying to be false to you or not. The problem is, most wizards do not want to stare this long, and will think legilimancy is being used.

"Of course, this isn't a problem if the person is trying to use legilimancy on you. You look at them and take a reading, and they will have to not only move and break the eye contact required, but will also know that you mean business." Gornak shrugged, continuing, "It seems that this would be a useful technique for you to learn, as your Dumbledore will be looking for answers upon your return to the magical world, if you choose to return."

"Turn and face one another," Gornuk instructed. "Mr. Potter, you will go first. Then, Miss Granger. Ask questions or talk about subjects to one another, then alternate until you two have both mastered feeling the truth or lies. It should not take long. I must go to make sure my other tasks for the day are handled." He gave a short nod to them both and left the room.

Harry and Hermione both took a deep breath, and started discussing whether or not each of them trusted Ron. Hermione swiftly found out that Harry did, and Harry swiftly found out that Hermione did not. They proceeded to talk about others — Remus, Tonks, Molly Weasley — and practiced lying and sensing lies. They easily got it by their third try each, and had finally stopped shuddering when Gornuk returned.

"So you've done it? Very well." He turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, Ragnuk wishes to meet with you. Miss Granger, you are free to do as you wish until your evening meal."

"Actually, I'd like to bring Hermione. She helps me manage things in my life, and she is my best friend," Harry stated.

Gornuk looked down his long nose at Harry for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. Down the hall, past your quarters, to the left. It is a golden door. Knock twice and someone will see to it that you are attended to."

"Thank you, Gornuk," Harry smiled. He and Hermione walked down the hall to the correct door, and Harry rapped twice on what appeared to be a door made of solid gold, carved with tiny dragons. They didn't have to wait long before a taller goblin wearing a maroon suit appeared.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," the goblin smiled as he held out his hand for Harry to shake, as was customary for bank business Harry had found. "And of course, Miss Granger. Pleasure to speak with you today. Follow me to my office."

They followed through what seemed like an endless maze of slate walls and shiny doors of dark stained wood, all brighter than their training area. Harry wondered if they were taking a long way as to not be seen; he stepped quickly so that he did not get lost.

The door where they stopped was walnut with a gold plaque that bore the words "Ragnuk, Head of Financial Affairs," and had a door knocker that looked like a dragon. The door was unlocked and the pair were ushered inside by the goblin, who gestured for them to sit down. Clearly Ragnuk was someone important at Gringotts, and Harry gulped.

"Ah, yes, the Potter scrolls. Tell me, Mr. Potter, what do you know of the Potter side of your family?"

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione. "Nothing, sir, beyond my father being a pureblood, of course."

Ragnuk let out a tut. "I see, I see. And you have never read any of the Potter wills, I assume?"

"Well — no. I haven't had the chance, sorry, sir." A worried look appeared on Harry's face. No one had told him about his family.

"James Potter was an only child himself, so you are the rightful heir to the Potter assets, but you do have one distant cousin who also qualifies to receive some inheritance, nothing beyond five thousand galleons, I assure you," Ragnuk said as he put on a pair of reading glasses and scanned down a scroll.

"Harry, you've got family!" Hermione turned to him and smiled, but Harry wasn't feeling as positive. As long as it wasn't Malfoy, he thought, he'd try to get to know them.

"Who is it?" He asked, and Ragnuk looked up.

"Unfortunately, the name is not listed beyond the last name Longbottom," Ragnuk responded. "It appears that it is a boy."

"Neville?" Harry asked, unsure, but Ragnuk just looked down the scroll.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter, I do not have that information. I can get it shortly." He scribbled something onto a scroll and poked it twice, and the scroll disappeared.

"To continue, you must claim your inheritance in order to be recognized as the remaining member of the Potter family; you do this by signing a few forms and submitting a blood drop for authenticity," the goblin stated. "The blood is then potion tested and you will be recognized."

Harry, eager to get started, nodded and began to pull up his sleeve. "How is it taken?"

The goblin smiled a gnarly, almost dangerous smile. "You shall use the Potter Family dagger. That is test one." He handed over a weighty silver dagger; the handle had encrusted rubies, sapphires and diamonds in tiny patterns outlining much larger sapphires near the top and bottom. The blade looked extremely sharp. "It is a goblin made weapon, very strong. If you are cut and are a Potter heir, it shall only issue one drop." Ragnuk pushed a stone basin across the desk.

Harry put his arm over the basin and used the dagger to draw a line. As Ragnuk had said, it issued one drop of blood. He let out a breath that he hadn't been sure he was holding, and Ragnuk whisked the basin away, snapping his long fingers twice. An assistant wearing very thin wire frame glasses and a beard of coarse gray curls entered the room — or at least, Harry assumed he was an assistant — and took the basin away.

"Now, Mr. Potter, this will need to be tested with various potions. I suggest that we discuss how your rightful guardian can assume control of you," Ragnuk spoke as though he was choosing each word carefully. "According to my knowledge, you have been left with a Muggle family not of your parents' choosing."

"Yes, sir," Harry spoke, eagerly hoping for Sirius to take over the role of guardian.

"And these Muggles are apparently known, in the magical world, to have treated you poorly," Ragnuk continued. "In fact, they are the worst kind of non-magical being, I presume, having had a few of my subordinates check in on this family."

"Yes, very terrible," Harry agreed, mumbling slightly.

Ragnuk looked up from his scroll to Harry. "They were never listed in your parents' will, and while I ordinarily ignore the Ministry and all the filth that it entails," he snarled as Hermione shuddered, "I do have a friend, Amelia Bones, in the Law Enforcement department. She assures me that no one at the Ministry ever allowed Dumbledore to have the right to choose your guardians, family or not. She assures me that Dumbledore, as far as she has the right to control, cannot force you to live anywhere, legally."

"Sir, does this mean I can live with Sirius?" Harry asked, feeling joyful.

"Indeed it does, Mr. Potter." Ragnuk leaned back in his chair, hands clasped together across his lap. "You will find that being a prime customer of this bank has its rewards, especially in matters that could result in a loss of income."

Harry sputtered out his thanks as the assistant came back in, holding several scrolls and a sword. Hermione took the opportunity to lean over and grasp Harry's hand, squeezing to show how excited she was. Harry grinned his largest smile back at her; he was free, legally! It didn't mean Dumbledore would quit trying, he thought, but that didn't matter.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter," Ragnuk began again as the assistant shuffled out, speedily. "You are indeed a Potter, though I didn't have much doubt. You will now have to sign several papers and will be given the Potter Sword, an item of decoration rather than a weapon of war.

"Thank you," Harry said, his grin still large and prominent on his face. Together, the two of them discussed Harry's holdings with the bank, his property holdings, his inherited items of significance from the Potter family, and the crest of his family. The Potters were particularly noble in the Magical community, though they had plenty of clout in the Muggle community as well, he learned.

The property was exciting; there was an estate house in Scotland, a smaller house in Surrey, the house in Godric's Hollow that was now destroyed, and a house in Wales that hadn't been used in hundreds of years. Harry and Hermione both made a note to discuss the houses with Sirius, as he was sure Dumbledore would not be able to access them.

Finally, Harry and Hermione left to have a supper in a dim room back in the training facility. Harry didn't mind the lack of sunlight and the dreary stone walls anymore; when he returned to Sirius, he would have a real, true family.


	13. Chapter 13

Working on two projects for NaNoWriMo this month... so you should get fairly regular updates unless my other project takes off! :) I don't own this 

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><p>That night, as Harry crawled into bed and the lights were extinguished, he started thinking about what he'd learned that day. He was exhausted, but happy; being able to read energy meant that he would know whether or not the Weasleys should be trusted, as each person's energy gave off several emotions, some of which were hard to name.<p>

He thought of Hermione. Her energy was strong and content, he thought. She wasn't the kind of person to have doubts when it came to her being in battle, and he was forever grateful that she was beside him. And he thought seriously of the fact that he had to be the one to kill Voldemort; he wasn't sure he could kill anyone, even the most evil wizard known to man. What a day it had been.

"Psssst, Harry?" Hermione whispered through the dark.

"Yes?" He whispered back.

"It's been a big day. I know you need your rest, but I've been thinking about something," she said. "Gornuk said that a teacher at the school knew of the prophesy. Who do you think it could be?"

Harry furrowed his brows. "I'm not sure," he admitted, after a moment of thought. "Maybe Trelawney? Though she wouldn't have known if she made it — she didn't know at the end of third year, either."

"Right," Hermione said with a sigh. "I suppose it's just one more thing we'll have to ask Professor Swott when we return."

"I was thinking, Hermione. We know that we can read people's energy, but do you think it's possible for us not to know if the people we're reading trust bad people? For example, if Ron is good, but trusts Dumbledore, what then?"

"Well, Harry, I'm sure we're going to have to explain why we're both on the run from Dumbledore the next time we see him — it's not going to be as easy as things being normal with Ron, you know," she pointed out. "But I think it's the Weasley family we've got to be more careful about, rather than Ron."

"Maybe," Harry sighed. It was hard having so much information, and yet no good way to use it without having to obtain more information. "I guess Sirius and Remus will be working on that one."

Hermione yawned, then sleepily said, "Yes, Harry. All right, we should go to sleep, we have got another long day of training tomorrow. I'm very happy for you, though, on finally having a family."

Harry smiled. "Yes, it feels good. Though I'm starting to think your family needs to adopt me too, Hermione; I could use an extended family."

Hermione chuckled as she drifted off to sleep.

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><p>They awoke the next morning to a sharp rap upon their door. Harry jumped out of bed and threw open the door, but no one was there. He figured it must have been their wake up call. Hermione, on the other hand, yawned, stretched and went off to shower calmly. The two of them ate a simple breakfast of buttered bread and bacon, and this time, entered using the red door next to Gornuk's office.<p>

"Good, good, I see the two of you have done as I instructed," Gornuk stated simply. Hermione looked ready to ask how it all worked, but Harry shot her a look and she closed her mouth.

"Yes, sir," Harry said as he turned to Gornuk. "Shall we start with the exercise, then, sir?"

"Very well. I will have Gorlak, my assistant, fetch you for lunch."

The day continued very much as the day before, but after a light lunch of sandwiches, the afternoon began much differently than the previous day.

They were each given a small dagger, goblin-made, and began learning how to use them. Small daggers were a favorite of the goblins; they were easily hidden, strong, could kill and yet could hardly maim, depending on one's wishes. Harry and Hermione spent the entire afternoon learning defensive stances, slashing actions, stabbing actions and more, practicing on magical scarecrows that were enchanted to fight back.

There was not a lot said that night as they each ate a plate of stew, showered and slept. Both were so exhausted by the day.

The next day, their morning routine was repeated, with Harry being able to now jog three kilometers without stopping and Hermione, nearly as long. They made sure to eat the muggle sports snacks and drank the sports drinks in the room so they did not become vitamin deficient with how hard they were training; Hermione worried that they might be overtraining, but Harry wondered if there wasn't something magical about the room or the food, because he did not even feel muscle soreness.

Later in the afternoon, they reviewed the stabbing, slicing and slashing motions from the day before, but Gornuk showed them something else: the daggers, forged with magical materials, could function as wands if need be. While they did not have focused cores that would make them practical for daily use, the emotion behind fighting could be a catalyst to use the dagger to direct spells. Hermione was impressed by this use of magic, and she was the first to be able to combine a slash motion with a cutting spell, Diffindo.

Harry had a harder time, but was determined to nail it, as well. An hour later, he did; he combined a stab and a stunning spell that, as Hermione put it, "was incredibly deadly but effective," as the stunning prevented anyone from being able to stop the bleeding. The two spent the rest of the afternoon trying different spell combos; a sharp poke in the stomach with a bat bogey hex was extremely useful for regrouping.

The two returned to their room after a warm dinner, feeling exhausted at the end of their third day of training. They arrived to find a scroll on Harry's bed; puzzled, Harry opened it.

"Mr. Potter,

It would indeed seem that Mr. Neville Longbottom is your distant cousin; he is your eighth cousin, and a rightful heir to a portion of your parents' estate. As per their wills, he will receive a sum of 5,000 galleons, to be presented at his 17th birthday.

I hope this is helpful in determining your next moves. As you are the Chosen One, it is foretold that Mr. Longbottom, along with another, is a part of your next journey. On behalf of the Goblin race, I ask you to be cautious when planning for the future. There is so much at stake on all sides.

Best wishes,

Ragnuk

Head Goblin of Financial Estates

Gringotts Bank, London"

He looked over at Hermione after reading it aloud; she looked back at him. "I wonder— do you think Ragnuk is still around? We need to know the details of this fight as they were foretold, as everyone seems to be placing their trust in it."

They ran out the door and down the hall, and Hermione knocked hard against the solid wood door. After a few moments, they heard the goblin's deep voice respond.

"Come in," he called, sounding slightly perturbed.

Harry turned the handle and entered first; Hermione followed. "Sir, I'm sorry to have disturbed you, but I just found out that Neville Longbottom is not only my cousin, but foretold to be part of this fight. What do you know about me being the Chosen One that you can reveal?"

Gornuk looked shrewdly at Harry. "I think it is best if you go read it yourself," he said after a pensive moment. He stood and walked out the door, saying "Come with me."

He led them down the dim halls to a small room, just past the edge of the training facility that looked to be in Gringotts proper. It had a metal door instead of a solid wood one, and it seemed to open by the same magic that some of the more important vaults did; Gornuk had to use his magic (and his finger) to open it.

Once inside, Harry noticed that there was a perfect replica of the night sky above them. Inky black darkness filled the room, and below were many desks covered in star maps and large dusty tomes; some were opened and listed numbers of significance in measurements in the sky. Large metal protractors and compasses were enchantedly drawing and measuring between stars in the star maps; every so often, one parchment map would fold itself up; it was gold on the back, and would tuck itself onto a shelf.

The shelves were maze-like structures lining every space left in the room. There were tiny labels on every shelf; Harry and Hermione were shocked to see the beginning shelf marked 1204 AD. There were silver ribbons hanging off of every piece of parchment that listed a name. Finally, against the wall, there were goblins who were pulling out the newest pieces of gold parchment, studying them, and then writing the descriptions on the corner of the pieces.

The place sounded loudly of pages being flipped and quills being scratched, almost like a quiet exam room. Harry felt nervous as Gornuk led them to a shelf. Marked 1981, the shelf contained many pieces of gold paper with silver ribbons, but Harry could tell which was his right away; he sensed it.

"Go on, you may pull it out, Mr. Potter," Gornuk nodded. "It is only right that you know."

Harry pulled out the sheaf and unfolded carefully. He could feel Hermione's breath on his neck, she was standing so close behind him, and he felt himself tremble at the thought of his future being in front of him. He walked to a nearby empty table and spread out the paper. Thick but tidy gold scrawl covered the bottom right corner.

"For the spirits of yore betell

a new darkness emerges within the year nineteen ninety five,

and an old darkness thought lost forever, but risen again by the blood of

the betrayed.

Harry Potter, the boy of the downfall, shall overcome this darkness;

he fights with four on the side of the light; family, friend, lover, to protect all.

He must be the one to vanquish and the one to live; for he will only truly

vanquish both shadows of the darkness when he may be allowed to live. "

Harry looked at the stars; there were gold inscriptions of each measurement between the map and the flickering candlelight glinted off of each. Mindlessly, he folded up the map, tucked it into the ribbon holder, and handed it back to Gornuk, who patiently filed it in exactly the right spot.

Harry never said a word as he wandered back to his room, Hermione thanking Gornuk and bidding him good night, and then catching up as he stalked down the twisting maze of dim hallways.

"Harry," she breathed as she touched his shoulder. "I—"

"I'm not sure I understand," he replied to her unasked question. "Obviously I will fight, with four others. Family, friend, and lover."

"Yes," she said, uncertainly. "I suppose Neville is your family."

Harry snorted. "Well, the problem is the rest are about as clear as Professor Trelawney's tea leaves."

"How can you say that, Harry?" she responded angrily. "I am right here, at your side, am I not?"

Harry looked over. "Right, I'm sorry, I just— take you for granted sometimes, I guess, Hermione. Merlin. I'm sorry."

She smiled back at him. "No problem, Harry. But I'm not going anywhere, so don't go down that noble path. You're my best friend, after all."

Harry nodded as he got a sick feeling in his stomach. Who was left to fill the 'lover' role? He couldn't imagine Cho filling that spot, and he didn't really feel any particular way about any other girl. In fact, since Cho had just lost her boyfriend because of Harry's own existence, he wasn't so sure that she'd be keen on helping him and risking her life, too. He sighed. This might be harder than he thought.

They had reached their room, Hermione giving him questioning looks the whole way, but he hadn't noticed. He sank down onto his bed, pulling off his shoes, and promptly fell asleep.

Halfway through a dream, in the middle of the night, he bolted upright and looked over. He had dreamed of losing Hermione to Voldemort, and felt the loss of their future together so strongly, it had woken him up. He couldn't bear to lose Hermione, but he was afraid for what this meant about her role in his life, too. Could he be secretly in love with Hermione?


	14. Chapter 14

I suppose this is my NaNoWriMo project. Not exactly an original novel of my own doing or anything, but at least this will be finished so I can move on to other writing projects! I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not do this for money.

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><p>He convinced himself that loving Hermione <em>like that<em> was impossible as he went through the motions of breakfast and training the following morning.

It wasn't that he thought Hermione was a terrible person, per sé; it was that he wasn't quite sure that he could love anyone. He had only just turned 15, for Merlin's sake! The only problem was, he'd tried everyone else he could think of in that spot, and no one fit as well as Hermione. Had he just not met her yet? He settled on the fact that maybe he hadn't, and forced his thoughts back onto training hard.

Hermione had let Harry have his space that morning as these jumbled thoughts went through his brain, as she thought about her own fears. Neville was not the young, scared boy he once was, though he was not yet what Hermione would consider 'war-ready.' And who would be the lover? She cringed at the thought of being a third wheel to Harry and his love interest, because she knew very well that most girls did not like the idea of their boyfriend's best friend being a girl. As a loyal best friend, she would follow Harry to the depths of the impending war, but it felt sad to know that post-battle, she wouldn't matter as much. She tried not to think about it too much as she pushed herself to run faster and farther that day.

With the two of them preoccupied, they trained right past their usual lunch time, Gornuk rapped on the door heavily and entered the room, much to their surprise.

"I see you two are fully immersing yourselves in training. Admirable, but so is punctuality," he wryly remarked.

"Sorry, sir," they said at the same time. They each grabbed extra snacks and drinks and followed Gornuk out of the room.

"No harm done," Gornuk said as he sat on his spindly chair. "This lesson is going to be your last back in time; you'll have three more days here after that, as per our agreement with your guardians," he continued. "We have reason to believe one of our staff members may have reported seeing you to your Headmaster and so we must keep you in the training facility and keep your presence quiet."

Harry nodded, and Hermione appeared to have a worried look on her face but slowly gave a single nod, as well.

Over the next four afternoons, they learned many small, helpful bits of goblin magic. They were able to do a spell similar to disillusionment, but instead of remaining on the ground, they could hover in air to give the appearance that their bodies were not there at all, and thus, they were more protected, unless things should fly into the air.

They next learned a goblin form of distance apparition; instead of creating a portkey, it turned the spell-caster into a portkey so that they could take as many people with them as possible without splinching. This took hours of practice extending into the evening, but both were determined to master all the goblin magic forms by their return. All of these bits of magic were good, clever magic they needed in order to get ahead of the years of training and knowledge that both Dumbledore and Voldemort had over them. Gornuk assured the pair that neither party had been trained in goblin magic; Hermione had been worried about this, but his assurances meant that they had a slight edge, in some ways.

Their last evening, Harry settled into bed. He looked over at Hermione, who was reading, as per usual, and he noticed how even the last week had changed them. He worried about the fourth person on their journey, and wondered how they would contact Neville about any of this, as his Gran was a Dumbledore supporter and they worried that she might have undue influence.

He noticed, after a few moments, that Hermione appeared to be shivering.

"Are you all right? Do you need another sweater?" he asked, getting up to look in his trunk, but she shook her head no and kept her face down. He walked over, and heard light sniffles. She was sobbing.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, sitting down next to her on her bed. "Did you hurt yourself or something?"

"Oh, Harry. No, I'm unhurt. I'm worried about you," she said. "And-and I don't know, Harry, it just seems like there's so much to be done. We don't even know who's to join us yet and I—" she stopped, putting a hand over her mouth, and sniffled again. "No matter, I just fear for the future. What if everything I've learned can't help you as much as I hope?"

He looked down at her book, now splotched with tears, and fiddled with a page corner. "Hermione, I wouldn't ask someone untrustworthy to join us on this mission. And I would never hold it against you if you didn't know the answer, you know — I never seem to know the answer. Maybe I rely on you too much." He sighed.

"No, Harry, I'm always happy to assist," she said, looking worried. "Don't go trying to get rid of me now, it won't work."

"I'm more worried about how I've got to find a 'lover' before too long," he said, smiling. "I'm fifteen and maybe a bit rash sometimes, I've never even snogged a girl," he continued, getting more serious. "What if I'm awful at snogging, even if I do find the right person, and she doesn't want to be with me?"

Hermione looked up, tears still dripping down her face. "Then she'd be a bloody idiot, Harry!"

Harry laughed. "Did you just swear, Hermione? Not quite what I expected from you," he teased.

She blushed. "Well, it's true. Besides, you're Harry Potter. I'm sure you're good at kissing, the entire country seems to think you're good at everything, and even if you're not, I'm not sure that she would care."

He didn't respond but stared across the room, at the stone wall, thinking. Hermione hated this; she could never figure out exactly what he was feeling, and thus how she should respond.

After a few moments, he looked at her. "You're my best friend, right?" She nodded, and he continued, after taking a deep breath. "Could—could you teach me how to kiss?"

She couldn't help a small grin as her cheeks blushed bright crimson. "Er, I- can it be taught? I think you just know. I hope, at least. I've never kissed anyone, either," she finished, mumbling at the end and staring at the book in front of her, smoothing the now crinkled wet page.

"Just one kiss, please, Hermione. I don't want to risk my first sloppy kiss on the person who is supposed to help us win this war, I have to win her over!" He gave her a begging look, and she acquiesced.

"Fine, one kiss." They turned toward one another, and her cheeks were still red. "I think we both have to lean in, Harry, and I close my eyes, and then you close the distance…" she trailed off, then leaned toward him, closing her eyes gently.

Harry took a deep breath and noticed how angelic she appeared, even in the dim light, and he hoped he wasn't screwing up her friendship. He slowly leaned in, touched his lips to hers, and felt surprising warmth at kissing her. It was over before he knew what had happened and Hermione was pulling back, eyes wide open.

"I-We should get to bed," Hermione said rushedly, cheeks red. "You're fine at kissing, Harry, don't worry about that." She slammed the book closed, looking flustered as she placed it on the table between their beds.

"All right, Hermione," he said, feeling both light and yet slightly embarrassed. As soon as he got up from her bed, she crawled under the covers and faced away from him.

"You aren't mad, are you?" he asked, hesitantly, as he crawled under his own blankets.

"Oh, Harry. No, I'm not mad. It was— surprising. That's all," she said, but didn't turn to face him.

As Harry slept, he dreamt all night of kissing the right girl to find her, but he never saw her face once he did. He tossed and turned, frustrated at his bad luck. 

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><p>The next morning found themselves and their trunks goblin apparating back to Marauder Manor, appearing in the grandiose front hall. They shuffled off to breakfast, neither one having got much sleep and not really looking at one another, and found Remus and Sirius both looking excited to see them.<p>

"Your parents went to secure their house with a hired goblin security agent, Hermione, but will be back before noon," Remus said as he answered Hermione's unasked question. "Tell us, do you feel better prepared?"

"I suppose so," Harry said as he sat down in his seat. A heaping plate of his favorite breakfast appeared before him, and he silently thanked the house elves for a tastier breakfast than what he had been eating at the training facility.

"Well, come on, Harry, Hermione! What did you learn?" Sirius boomed, excited to know what the goblins had taught, as his and Remus' negotiations had been hard in trying to secure the pair's training.

Hermione gave him a glance, but answered. "We learned basic forms of goblin fighting with daggers, a form of apparition that got us here today, a form of occlumency that reads people's energy, and we trained physically every day. In fact, we'll be needing a training facility for all of us who intend to fight, I think - one advantage we can all easily have is strength and stamina."

Sirius nodded. "I actually expected something like that. There's a small room for exercise in the rear of the house, and it leads to the back where we can run or walk outside."

"Perfect," she said, "And I really hope to be able to teach you both how to do the energy reading. I'm not sure we'll have time to perfect everything else and Gornuk was a great teacher."

Harry finally piped up. "We also learned about a foretelling of my fate," he said calmly. "We know that I am to fight with three others: lover, friend, family." Sirius and Remus looked at one another, eyebrows raised. "I learned that Neville Longbottom is possibly — probably — the family of which the stars speak."

"I see," said Remus.

"What about me?" Sirius asked.

"Sadly, Sirius, I suspect it's going to happen during the school year or whenever I'm without you. And I'm not sure it applies to non-blood family," Harry stated.

Hermione broke in. "This reminds me," she began, with a thoughtful look on her face, "that a teacher reportedly knows the prophesy, according to the goblins. I don't know how they know, but they have their sources, I suspect. We should ask Professor Swott."

The others finished up their breakfast and the four of them walked to the library together, sitting down in front of the portrait."

"Good to see you, good to see you all," the portrait boomed. "It's been far too long."

"It's only been a few days," said Sirius, dryly.

"Yes, yes, well, I suppose you've all been busy?" Professor Swott asked. "Your professor has been told you were at Gringotts lately. He'd been notified by a Bill Weasley."

"That answers that question," Harry grumbled under his breath.

"Yes, we were, but we can't tell you why," Hermione responded. "It's better to not talk about it, I think."

Professor Swott laughed heartily and nodded. "I don't begrudge you your secrets in this war, my dear girl."

"Perhaps then you could answer a question for us?" asked Hermione. "We heard from the goblins that a teacher knows of a prophesy about Harry. Do you know which one?"

Professor Swott adjusted his hat and adopted a grim look on his face. "I can," he admitted. "I should have told you before, had I thought of it. It is that greasy mess of a professor, Severus Snape," he stated darkly. "He overheard Dumbledore being given the prophesy. I know nothing else of Snape's involvement."

"Of course it was Snape spying," Harry exclaimed. "He's playing both sides probably."

"Well, of the mystery surrounding the prophesy, I can tell you a bit more." Swott leaned forward, as if he were going to tell a secret via whisper. "You are the Chosen One. What's more, Voldemort attacked you because he thought by killing you, he would eliminate you as a threat — but apparently he did not have the full story." Professor Swott leaned back into his comfortable, throne-like painted chair once more.

"Remus and I knew of the prophesy surrounding your parents, of course. That was why they went into hiding; Voldemort knew of it. We knew he didn't know the whole thing, Dumbledore had made that very clear," Sirius snarled, "But if any of us had known it was Snape, I would have killed him myself. I may still, upon my return."

"Sirius!" Hermione gasped. "We cannot think like that. We can NOT turn into Voldemort, killing as retribution. It won't do any good this time. We already know not to trust Dumbledore and that Snape has always been untrustworthy."

"You're right," replied Sirius, still looking rather angry.

Remus looked at all of them. "I think it's time to discuss a plan," he calmly stated as he relaxed into his chair. "This could take a while."


	15. Chapter 15

I know, I know, it's not everyone's cup of tea, this Hermione-Harry romance thing, but the next few chapters are going to be the only chapters where it features heavily into the story. We've got so much darkness to fight, right?

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><p>They all stared at Remus, wondering what he was thinking.<p>

"First, let me begin by saying — I have it on good authority that if Dumbledore finds out you're with us, he's going to insist you stay at the, erm, place we've all been staying, as part of the Order of the Phoenix, his group fighting for the light." Remus paused. "I don't know yet if that's the right answer, but it is a solution. Seeing as it's Sirius' house, it might not be a bad one."

"You're going to need to learn occlumency properly before we even think of returning to Britain, though," added Sirius. "It's not enough that you can — what did you call it — oh, read energies," he said. "You need to be bulletproof to Dumbledore; he is a superior legilimens."

"I don't know what to do about the Weasleys," Remus added after Sirius finished. They looked at one another thoughtfully. "I think they are true friends, but I also think they are heavily influenced by Dumbledore. Like the rest of us fighting for the light, they believe he's doing good. It also helps that by getting in closely with him and you, Harry, it stands that Arthur might be able to do well in the next Ministry, if you know what I mean."

"Do you think they're using Harry or Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, forehead wrinkled in concern.

"Not exactly," Sirius responded. "But I do think Dumbledore courts people who will look up to him to become part of his entourage in this mission. Think carefully about the closest people to Dumbledore in the order: all people who would greatly benefit from Dumbledore's influence in the Ministry once the Death Eaters and Voldemort are cleared out."

"Interesting," Hermione replied. "And it does make sense; Dumbledore can move them around like pawns to do his bidding, and as long as their lot is better than it was before, he's considered their hero."

"It sounds like it's going to be hard to separate the Weasleys from Dumbledore," said Harry. "I mean, we're going to sound like a mad band of separatists to them, I expect, if we try to clue them in to what we're doing."

"I think you're going to have to keep that locked up tight. I don't think they're to be trusted. They weren't in your prophesy from the goblins, correct?" Remus looked stern as Harry nodded. "I thought so. Even more important for you to be able to master occlumency at the soonest."

Sirius looked at the pair before speaking. "I think you may have to stay in hiding before school begins. I don't think it's the right time to reveal ourselves, not until we're sure you're going to be able to resist Dumbledore's occlumency."

Hermione looked eager to begin. "Are there any books on occlumency and legilimency here in the library?"

"Just the one," Sirius said as he handed over a large blue volume with swirls of silver and red on the spine. "It does a good job explaining the mechanics. Remus and I have been able to get much better at it than before, over the last few days."

"I've also been looking into a way to create a sort of shield using armor or clothing," Remus said. "I believe Dumbledore is probably going to attach all sorts of monitoring spells to the two of you once you return to the magical world. He likely is going to amend the memories of the Dursleys to 'convince' them never to let you out again. If we can at least prevent the spells from sticking, especially tracking spells, you'll be able to rest easier."

"Why do we have to go back at all?" asked Harry, who did not like the possibility of increased monitoring one bit.

"Well, you'll have to fight Dumbledore and Voldemort for power, it seems," Remus answered.

"But what makes going back to prepare for that such a good choice? Why wouldn't it be easier to be schooled here?" Hermione asked.

"Ah, Hermione could be, indeed. But Harry couldn't, depending on his relatives' memories and what Dumbledore tells them," Remus said.

Sirius jumped up. "That's it, Moony! I don't have to be free, I just have to have permission to be guardian from those bloody bastards!" Hermione rolled her eyes at Sirius' swears. "We should go see them and convince them it's the right thing, if you know what I mean."

"I don't know, Padfoot," Remus responded, a hesitant look upon his face. "Dumbledore might be watching their house."

"Then you go disillusioned, I'll go as Padfoot, and we'll have the house elves take us right into the house so that they can't say no," Sirius grinned. "Where's your sense of marauder spirit?"

Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius, but agreed to go that evening.

In the meantime, Hermione met her parents and Ann at lunch, and all assured her they were fine and happy again to see her. After a quick meal of pea soup and fresh bread, they made their way to the library to begin studying occlumency and legilimancy in earnest. Meditation was a big part of this skill; it took serious concentration to remove oneself from actively engaging the mind. It was difficult, but the process was made easier by beginning in silence.

While much meditation was going on at Marauder Manor, the two remaining Marauders snuck out with the house elf named Melty. Melty was young, exuberant and good friends with Dobby; he was slightly eccentric for a house elf, but a good elf. He assured them that he should have no trouble getting there once they told him the address and the plan.

Melty popped them into the house. After a few minutes in which no one came, both men realized that no one must have seen or heard them inside, and no one was home. They sat on Petunia's floral couch, waiting for the family to return.

Two hours later, the Dursley parents walked in, Petunia quietly sobbing. She screamed when she saw Sirius and Remus on the couch.

"What are you fools doing here? Haven't you done enough to this family? Go away!" Vernon shouted, the veins in his neck popping as his face turned red. "You've brought enough misfortune on us."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sirius began, but Petunia interrupted.

"You and y-your kind are the reason our son is dead. We know it, the doctors said it was a mystery. Dropped dead out of nowhere is not a reason for death," she said, an edge to her voice.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your son," Remus interjected in the kindest possible voice. "We are only here to see that you relinquish the rights to Harry, if at all possible, so that his godfather here may make educational choices for him."

Vernon was turning purple, but obviously remembered that Harry's godfather had supposedly killed many people, and he didn't want to die. In a strangled voice, he said, "Give me the bloody papers and GET OUT! I've had enough of you all! No more codswallop like this in my bloody house!" Remus passed over the papers and pen in a rush. Vernon snatched them up, and signed each with a flourish. "If Harry Potter ever steps foot in this house again, I will kill him, mark my words," Vernon said menacingly as he handed back the papers. "He was never part of this family and never will be."

"You have made that legally clear, sir. Thank you," Remus said as Sirius called for Melty while Petunia sobbed loudly. The three were whisked away by Melty back to the house as Vernon's face continued to waver back and forth between red and purple.

They found Harry and Hermione in the library, still practicing. Both men looked rather pale from the encounter, though the kids seemed to be more calm.

"Did it go well?" Hermione asked, looking serene.

"In some ways," Sirius muttered. Remus gave him a look, but sat down on the small couch at the rear of the room.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, walking over to sit beside Remus.

"It was a difficult time. Harry, I'm not sure how to best say it, but — your cousin Dudley has died," Remus said, swallowing hard. "It was very hard on your Aunt and Uncle, and they refuse to ever see you again, which made our job easier. But your Aunt maintains that it had something to do with magic - your cousin 'dropped dead of nothing', she said, or at least that's what the Muggles think."

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione blurted out, a sad look on her face. "I know they weren't good family to you, but it is a shame…"

"Yeah, I didn't want things to happen like this," he replied. "I think I might call it a night. It's been a long day."

Sirius and Remus bid him good night while discussing what could have happened to Dudley and whether it would be a good idea to drop a hint to Dumbledore, and during this, Hermione decided to go to bed, too. She visited with her parents for a bit and wished them good night, and got dressed for bed. She tried falling asleep but felt like it wasn't the right thing to do, so she then snuck over to Harry's room. She rapped lightly on the door, then pushed it open.

"Harry? Are you okay?" she whispered gently.

"I—I don't know, Hermione," he said, voice trembling. She came in the room and closed the door behind her. His room felt slightly colder, and she found herself wishing she had worn something more than a light nightgown.

"I'm so sorry. I know you didn't mean for bad things to happen to them — to anyone."

He nodded. "But part of me feels like they deserved something bad to happen, for all the things they've put me through. Not death, no one deserves that, but I feel guilt for feeling like they deserved revenge at all. Like I was a part of it, or something." He scooted over in his bed and left room for her to sit.

She climbed up, sitting carefully next to him. "Harry, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't your doing."

"I know. But I can't help my feelings," he sighed. She could feel the slight tension in the air at being so close to him, and it caused her to shiver.

"Are you cold? I'm sorry. Feel free to use the blanket, too," he said.

"No, I couldn't trouble you. I should be getting back to my own room," she replied, trying to keep their conversation from treading towards awkwardness.

"Please?" he asked, and she nodded. She lay back on the bed beside him, and they both stared at the ceiling.

He rested his head on her shoulder. She was silently grateful that he didn't want to talk, because she wasn't sure what she'd say about this. But she felt them shifting into something else, occupying a space other than friendship. And while it's something she'd thought of, maybe even dreamed about, she knew that Harry wasn't ready to face this reality.

And so they drifted off to sleep, Hermione determined to make it normal when she woke up. 

* * *

><p>Harry leaned up the next morning, after something tickled his face to wake him up. He noticed Hermione draped across the other side of his bed and, startled, he rolled over and stared at the wall.<p>

He realized, after a few moments, that there was no reason to be shocked, she was just his best friend. But last night, he'd asked her to stay because he needed her there — not someone else, her. And it was at that moment that it hit him: perhaps he did like Hermione. In fact, maybe he loved her, but that was going a little far, wasn't it? He loved her like a friend, but he wasn't sure about the romance part. Romance, that didn't seem his style. His thoughts were flying faster than himself in a quidditch game. He was in the middle of trying to figure out how best to abandon ship and sneak downstairs when she woke up.

"Hhmmm? Oh, Harry, good morning," she yawned as she sat up, hair going wild.

He found her hair amazing, especially with the light going through it right at that instant, which was the exact wrong way to think. He had no idea how to handle this feeling. "Uh, hi."

"Something wrong?" she asked, puzzled and still looking sleepy.

He rolled over. "N-not exactly, Hermione. I'm sorry you fell asleep in here. I should have let you go back to your room." He was staring at the ceiling, the bed, the walls — anywhere but her.

"You aren't serious about this awkward behavior, are you?" she responded, putting her hands on her hips. "You don't need to be awkward."

"It's complicated, Hermione!" he said back, exasperated.

"No, it's not, I accidentally fell asleep in here," she responded, brow furrowed. "Unless you think I have the plague or wizard's pox or some—"

"No! I don't think you have the pox! I'm afraid that I like you!" He blurted out, and immediately buried his head under a pillow.

Hermione's cheeks were a bit pink, but she was undeterred. "You—you're afraid of that?" she asked meekly, sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from him. Her voice gave away her fear that Harry might not want her along for the ride after all.

"I—maybe. I don't have a family and I hardly consider myself an expert on anything like love or romance," he scoffed, laying his head back down on the pillow.

"I don't think anyone expects you to know those things expertly at 15," she replied.

He sighed. "No, but I didn't mean to say it to you. I wanted to think about it."

She turned around, chin stuck out slightly. "I'm not going to let you leave me behind because of this. I can be your friend, you can find someone else to be your lover if that's what you want. I don't blame you for not wanting to be with me but I intend to see this mission through, for the good of the world."

It was Harry's turn to look puzzled. "Why do you think I don't want to be with you?"

"I-well, it just seems logical. Your crushes follow a different pattern than I do," she said calmly, hoping to Merlin that her body language was not giving away the fear she felt, freezing her insides.

"The only pattern is that I liked them," he said, scratching his head. "But this doesn't have anything to do with them, really."

"I know," she sighed. "Let's just stay friends, okay? Then you don't have to be afraid of me or awkward around me."

Harry was about to tell her that he didn't think it was going to work like that, that epiphanies generally do not go away, but he realized that maybe they were on two different pages as far as conversation went. He didn't see why she was comparing herself to others and he was worried about her. She was already halfway across his room when he raced to catch up with her and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her.

"Hrrrry, mmf—" was all she said before giving in.

Harry, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. So this is the reason people snogged! After a few minutes, she pulled back, and he felt disappointed.

"Harry, what was that?" she asked, more curious than angry.

"I'm not always good at words," he admitted. "But I seem to be good at kissing…" he trailed off as he leaned down to give her another. She held her hand up to his pursed lips.

"Not so fast. I didn't think you wanted to—"

"No, you didn't want to. I just said that I was a little afraid of the idea of love," he said as he finally let go of her.

"Oh." She bit her lip and at that point, Harry was physically restraining himself to not kiss her again. "So maybe we could try this- being in like, did you call it?"

"I'll do anything you want, Hermione, I'll even study ancient runes as long as you kiss me again," he replied dreamily, then sobered. "Er, I didn't mean to say that out loud."

She smirked as she walked out of his room. "Then you can brush your teeth and get training if you want to see me again," she laughed from the hallway.


	16. Chapter 16

So I've gotten a few reviews about my comment about HHr in a previous chapter. To clarify, I'm not actually changing the story to exclude their relationship, only making it more about the war they're fighting - which would be more true to their characters, I think. Intertwining all these things is quite the balancing act! I'm not trying to censor anything, I promise. I'm only writing how I think two 15 year olds would handle all of this being thrown at them. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Harry quickly dressed and got ready for a morning of training. He burst into the training room, but Hermione was out for a run. He quickly left the house and caught up with her as she rounded a grove of trees.<p>

"You're serious?" he asked, unbelieving his luck that maybe she liked him and maybe she might actually want to snog him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she said between breaths, sweat glistening on her forehead as her thick curls were tied back.

"I just—well, I'm kind of a danger to be around, I don't know."

"Yeah, and I'm kind of bossy to be around, Harry. We'll work it out, I'm certain," she said as she slowed to a walk. "I don't think we should tell anyone yet, though. I don't want my parents to get overbearing."

"Fair enough," he replied. "Speaking of parents — well, Sirius is legally my parent now. What's going to happen with school, I wonder."

"I haven't a clue. I went to bed shortly after you, but I know they are extremely worried about Voldemort targeting Dudley on purpose," she said. "I should really get back to running. I swore to train my hardest," she called over her shoulder as she took off down the paved path on the hill.

Harry was left wondering how he had a girlfriend and how they were going to get back to learning.

* * *

><p>After the two changed and had sat down to lunch with Hermione's parents, Remus burst in.<p>

"Sorry to rush the two of you, but we've got a problem." He threw down a Daily Prophet, the front cover showing a distraught-looking Dumbledore standing in front of Privet Drive. "The old cunning bastard got wind of Dudley's death and decided to spread the rumor that Voldemort killed Dudley and took you, Harry. Of course, the Minister is furious but with you gone and the Dursleys' only quote being "that insolent boy is gone forever," he looks discredited. The wizarding world is not only going down in shambles because Fudge will be forced to resign, but because Dumbledore is lying. But if you come out of hiding, Harry, you risk everyone thinking Voldemort isn't back and Dumbledore will likely even seek to discredit you because you'll have made him look bad. You see the risk."

Hermione threw down her fork and looked surprised when it made a loud clatter. "Sorry," she sheepishly whispered. "I just can't see why he wants to do this. But it's obvious we'll have to destroy both men quietly."

Harry poked around his plate, shoving his sausages around. "I think it's time to figure out who the others are." He heard the Grangers whispering to one another, and he felt awkward about the position he'd put them in. He looked at Hermione. "Do you think it's Ron?"

"I'm not sure, Harry. He's been less than loyal over the years, if you think about it. Especially this past year, he was so jealous of both of us." She sent him a significant look.

Remus raised an eyebrow at their discussion of the friend spot, but said nothing about it as he continued his previous comments. "We're going to have to come up with a curriculum for you, get books and supplies, get training. We've got to find other people to train you; you need variety and to learn as much as possible. You're going to be stuck here for a bit, but we will come up with a plan around it. For now, though, I've got to see who we can convince. I'll start showing back up at the—the place, and see if I can't get someone to write it down for me so we can let you in on that." He swept out of the room quickly, and Hermione put down her fork and jumped up.

"Have to get paper, be back in a moment," she called behind as she left the room.

Mr. Granger spoke up. "Have you given any thought to just, well, leaving the magic world?"

Harry sighed. "I have, but it wouldn't make it better. It would just mean eventually someone would track me down. It wouldn't be a life of peace." He stabbed a sausage, not feeling hungry in the slightest. He was effectively banned from the world which he loved, until something could be done to stop the takeover by both Voldemort and Dumbledore.

Hermione returned with paper and pen. "We're obviously going to need training in defense, occlumency and legilimancy, wizard apparition, basic healing spells, and any other beneficial types of magic. We also need to study history to see what Dumbledore did in the past, and anything Tom Riddle might have done, too."

Sirius walked in. "I'm assuming you've all heard the bad news, so I've taken the liberty of sending Melty to get all the books you'd have been using this year, along with anything else, from Diagon Alley. He's been instructed to say that he is working for a French born witch named Elodie Malleux if he's asked… hopefully no one will snoop beyond that."

Hermione spoke again after consulting the notes she'd made. "We know the goblins are on our side and were able to manage to teach us some goblin magic. There have to be other types of magic we can learn; perhaps from the house elves or the veelas? I don't know what all of this would entail, but we would have to see if the Weasleys are on our side to see if Fleur could teach us anything."

"I think we need to talk to Neville," Harry added. "The sooner, the better, but I don't know a safe way."

"We'll figure that out soon, Harry," Hermione assured him.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione brought all their schoolbooks downstairs. They found a cupboard in the library that was unoccupied, save for one heavy box, and moved their school things into it.<p>

Hermione turned to Professor Swott's painting when they were done. "You wouldn't know anything about this Dumbledore plot in the news, would you?"

"The one where he's accusing Voldemort of stealing Harry?" Professor Swott asked, cackling madly. "The old fool thinks that Voldemort will be angry upon reading it and will try to attack, and Dumbledore thinks that Harry will show up to do his duty, as he sees it, in saving his friends at Hogwarts."

"That's— that's mad!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"He mentioned this possibility to Snape; I don't know that he counts on it. He didn't say a lot about the plan. I am not sure what he gains beyond that, sadly, so all I can relay are the minor details," Professor Swott said, more soberly this time. "I regret that his actions are so unfitting to Hogwarts and to a man of his stature."

"It's not your fault," Hermione sighed as she sank down into a chair.

"What did Professor Snape say about Voldemort's reaction?" Harry asked.

"He merely told the Headmaster that Voldemort does not have you, and that the evil man is sending out teams of searchers to find you."

"I hope everyone is safe at the Order meeting place," Hermione said. "I don't know how we could keep our cover and protect them."

"I think I need to go see Neville," Harry said. "It's only going to get harder to talk to him when Hogwarts is in session."

"That's true," Hermione agreed. "It might put the goblin apparition to the test. I think we should take someone with us."

"Remus is the only one we can take. If Sirius is caught by Dumbledore, we couldn't be sure that Dumbledore wouldn't turn him over to Azkaban to get access to me. And where would I go after that?" Harry replied.

Hermione nodded. "Let's go see him and make plans, then." The two rushed off and found him in the living room in the midst of a deep conversation with Sirius regarding the Weasleys, which halted immediately as they came in.

"Remus, we need your help, we need someone to accompany us to talk to Neville Longbottom," Harry said. Sirius opened his mouth to complain, but Harry replied before he could get a word out. "Sorry, Sirius, but if it becomes a trap, we don't want Dumbledore taking you and having any leverage over where I could go." The look of frustration on Sirius' face was clear.

"We need to do this now. I'm really worried that Neville and others will be in danger from Dumbledore's rash actions if Hogwarts comes under attack," Hermione further explained to Remus. "I think we need to figure out a way to be able to contact Neville privately in the event that things begin to go wrong."

Sirius stood up and walked out of the room. Remus raised an eyebrow at that, but started to speak. "I can take you there, but don't count on Neville's grandmother being all that sympathetic to you, Harry. As I remember, she's a Dumbledore supporter."

Harry grimaced. "I know it's going to be an uphill battle, but I'm hoping that maybe, for once, luck might be on our side."

Sirius then came back in the room, holding what looked like two small cosmetic mirrors. He handed one to Harry, and then looked in the second one and said "Harry Potter" clearly into it. Harry looked down at the mirror and could see Sirius pulling a face. Sirius then tapped once to end the mirror transmission.

"Useful, eh?" Sirius remarked, as he set the second one down on a table. "Your dad and I used to use them, but it might be a good method of contact for Neville. I'll have to see if we can get more made."

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said. "This is amazing. You're sure it can't be tapped into, or anything?"

"No, it's just between the mirrors, I'm sure of it. Though plenty of people have once wanted to be able to hear what James and I used to say…" he trailed off, waggling his eyebrows. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"All right then, come on," she said as she touched Remus' and Harry's shoulders. "Now or never."

"We're going to goblin apparate, Remus," Harry warned. "Longer distance, it's safer, and can get us into some well guarded places. Hermione, you go first this time."

"All right," she said, closing her eyes. Instead of feeling like a navel jerk, it felt like a gentle brushing motion all down the body. In a second, they were standing in the foyer of Longbottom Manor.

"Er, excuse me?" Harry called, and an angry looking house elf appeared.

"Can I help you? You is not supposed to be in here—" he was cut off by Neville coming down the steps.

"Harry? Hermione? Professor Lupin? Have you even heard the news? They're—" he said as he tripped over the last step. "I-you- are you being held by Voldemort?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh, Neville, hogwash. Harry ran away from his abusive aunt and uncle, and we have been hiding with his godfather and Professor Lupin here in a safe place, please don't worry!"

Harry smiled, too. "We're sorry to break in like this, but we need to talk to you. I learned some interesting information about my family and my future this summer, Neville."

As Neville led them down to the main sitting parlor to inform Gran of his friends' arrival, he wondered if he was possibly dreaming all of this. Harry Potter apparated through wards into his house? But if anyone could do it, it would be Harry. He decided to give him a chance to explain before making up his mind. He only hoped Gran would do the same.


	17. Chapter 17

This one is a little shorter. My apologies, there just wasn't a good way to continue with what happens next and still keep it to a manageable chapter size. 

* * *

><p>Neville led them down a hall and into a wide parlor room filled with furniture. The furnishings were grand and upscale, but it felt more cozy than Marauder Manor.<p>

"Gran," Neville said, his voice shaking. "I-My friends and professor are here to talk to me."

Augusta Longbottom looked over the group and recognized Harry immediately, but did not say anything about him being there. "Very well, Neville."

Hermione spoke up as Mrs. Longbottom stood up to excuse herself to another room. "We're terribly sorry to intrude, but we're worried about Neville's safety. You may want to stay to hear about it yourself, if you can keep things quiet about us."

At this, Mrs. Longbottom gave Hermione a hard look, but nodded. "I don't think the Daily Prophet is telling truths about you, Mr. Potter," she said, glancing over to Harry, "And I do think there are plenty of holes in the story."

Harry and Hermione both breathed a sigh of relief. Lupin sat, facing the door, just in case they were visited as Harry and Hermione sank down onto a plush green couch. Neville and his Gran sat across from them on an identical couch.

"First, we're extremely worried about Dumbledore," Harry began. He explained how he had left Little Whinging for only a short time before Dumbledore discovered it against his will and how Dumbledore had been lying to everyone over the years.

"The problem is, he's Dumbledore. Tom Riddle fears him, the wizarding world looks up to him, and he's powerful," Hermione stated. "While we think he is trying to save the wizarding world from Tom Riddle, we're not so sure that he's doing it for the good of the world, either. We suspect he has lied and kept so many in the dark to ensure he is still very powerful."

The two continued with how they were currently on the run, but had recently learned of Harry's lineage.

"At a Gringotts meeting, I was told that you, Neville, are my cousin, and in a strange turn of events, that you are also a part of the foretelling about me that Gringotts has on file. You will be key in helping destroy the evils of both Dumbledore and Voldemort."

"Rubbish," Mrs. Longbottom exclaimed. "While I have no doubt that you are telling the truth about Dumbledore, as I've had my doubts about him for some time now — with letting a Death Eater into his school to teach, my word! — I do not feel comfortable with your insinuation that Neville is to follow you into battle. You are all very young people, still children."

"Mrs. Longbottom, please believe me when I say that I agree that they are far too young. But what many don't know is that Harry has always been at risk of this prophesy of him being the one to defeat You-Know-Who — it is the reason his parents died." Remus replied, sitting at attention in the carved wood and velvet chair between the two couches, looking uncomfortable to have to referee.

"Be that as it may—"

"Mrs. Longbottom, do you prefer to ignore the danger and send Neville to school to get killed? That is likely the destiny that awaits him, as Dumbledore has essentially slandered You-Know-Who to try to trick Harry out of hiding," Hermione interrupted in an indignant tone. "You know as well as I do that Neville can be great, but like anyone of our age, he has to learn, and beyond what little Dumbledore has offered at Hogwarts."

Mrs. Longbottom let out a 'harrumph!' but did not deny that Hermione was right.

"What do you think is your plan, Harry?" Neville asked, still slightly timid after Hermione's rebuke of his grandmother.

"Well, Neville, I can't go back to school. If I show up and Dumbledore is made a fool, he's going to try to gain custody of me or try to magically change my mind, if you know what I mean. He's not going to just sit back, I know that much. So I'm going to be devoting my time to training, I think, and with Hermione's help, we're going to figure out what needs to happen to take down both Voldemort and Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Do you want him to quit school?" Mrs. Longbottom asked.

"No, I don't think so," Remus replied. "In fact, it might be good to have contact with someone who Dumbledore doesn't know is still in Harry's life."

"So you came here looking for a spy?" she continued.

"Not at all. It's up to Neville, but he is part of the foretelling. He is capable of being a major part of the defeat of Voldemort and Dumbledore, and I think we should let him make the decision," Harry responded.

"This is important," Neville said, resolute in his words. "I don't want to let down the wizarding world. Of course, Harry, I'll help you. But I don't know how."

"Leave that to us, Neville," Hermione said. "We're only just now getting the plans together for what we'll need to do, but we have ways to get you to training."

Harry pulled the mirror out and handed it over to Neville. "Take this. Speak my name clearly into it and I can communicate with you. If you get into trouble, you'll need it, especially with Dumbledore. And make friends with your house elves — they are the key to helping you get around."

"For now, Neville, start exercising every day. Running, lifting weights, hiking — do anything you can and spend as much time on it as possible. We think one of the key differences in battle will be having stamina," Hermione finished.

"We should be going now," Remus said, looking at the clock over the mantle. "Mrs. Longbottom, thank you for allowing us to speak with you both. Please keep an open mind about Neville's role. He was born for it, according to the stars and the Goblins. His age is not the only factor."

Mrs. Longbottom merely nodded and said her goodbyes to the guests. Neville looked less nervous, which they all took as a good sign. Harry goblin apparated them all back to Marauder Manor.

"Well, that actually went better than expected," Hermione said as she plopped down in a chair. The sun had almost set and she stared out at the pink and violet streaked sky.

"I have to admit, I honestly thought that Mrs. Longbottom would throw us out before we even got to explain," Harry said. "I don't know much about her but Neville always seems to be scared of her."

"We've got to work on his confidence," Hermione replied. "He has to help us defeat Voldemort, and his own grandmother makes him unnerved."

They ate dinner with the full group, trying to stay positive and jovial to keep their immense plans out of their minds for a brief second, and now that they were not as constricted with their schedules, spent some time studying the magical mechanics behind occlumency, with the help of some books that Melty had bought that afternoon. 

* * *

><p>Later that night, Harry snuck into Hermione's room. "Psst, Hermione, are you awake?"<p>

"Yes, Harry," she mumbled, sleep evident in her voice.

"I, well, I'm really not very good at this whole, um, thing," he said. "And I know we're trying not to tell anyone, but I don't feel like I'm being very good to you if I don't at least try to spend time with you away from everyone else."

Hermione sighed and smiled. "Harry, you're doing just fine. We had big news today. This battle is going to come first, we both know that."

"True, but maybe at night we could spend time together, I was thinking," he shyly replied. "I mean, not to—oh, Merlin," he muttered, frustratedly.

"Harry, you're fine! I don't think you're trying to be — you know. You're fine. Of course we could spend time together at night," she laughed.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" he blurted out in relief.

She turned over and looked into his eyes. "Y-yes, but are you sure you want me?"

"Positive, Hermione. If anything, I think your kiss might be enough for me to marry you someday," he said with a small smirk.

"I'm going to need a better proposal than that, Harry," she laughed. "Not quite up to my expectations."

"Then how about you stay my girlfriend and we, er, snog a bit?" Harry suggested, amusement in his eyes.

She agreed that a snog might be just the thing, and before long, the two were curled up next to one another, asleep in Hermione's bed. Harry felt like the luckiest person alive as he drifted off to sleep; to have people who cared so much about him after so long, and a girlfriend who would follow him into the hell that could sometimes be his life was simply remarkable to a boy who had gone most of his life without friends or real family. 

* * *

><p>They were not so lucky when Mrs. Granger walked in the next morning, intending to ask Hermione to help her Gran with some potted plants. Her shriek was the worst kind of alarm clock.<p>

"I—you two—how—WHAT IS HARRY DOING HERE?" Mrs. Granger finally choked out, hoping that this was not as it appeared.

Hermione rolled over and looked at her mother. "Calm down, we're just trying to sleep," she muttered.

"Together, you mean? Hermione, you are not yet 16!" Her mother's face turned red and she started to pull the sheets off. A tired Harry tried rolling over and fell off the bed.

"Mrs. Granger, Hermione's right, I just fell asleep in here," he mumbled from the floor as he attempted to stand up.

"I'm sorry, Mum," she said as she stretched and jumped off the tall bed to make it up again. "But I'm not really sure why you're making accusations against Harry and me. We haven't done anything that you're insinuating, nor did we intend to," she said with a grumpy tone.

"You have to admit that it looks bad," her mother asserted.

"So what if it does? Do you not trust me to understand, er, consequences of behavior? He didn't manipulate me into anything nor did either of us choose to do anything. We're fifteen, mum! I'm going to dress and train." She stormed off into her large closet and shut the door hard behind her.

"Be careful," her mother said to Harry as she left the room quickly. "I just don't want—" she stopped, after noticing Harry's face was bright red. "Right."

Harry had never felt so happy to go on his run away from the house.


End file.
